The Dark in Peace
by TheEndless7
Summary: Four years after the war Auror Harry Potter and his partner investigate a series of murders involving their former classmates that threaten to divide the Wizarding World once again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money on this. This work does not have a beta at this point, so any mistakes are my own.

Acknowledgements: The user 'Aiur' sent me a PM about a year ago as I was finishing up Letters inquiring abuot the possibility of a 'Law and Order' esque story featuring Harry and Daphne. The isn't quite that, but it was from that idea that this came forth.

The Dark In Peace

_She danced. She loved dancing. It made her forget about how much of an ass he was being. Had he always been an ass? Or had she just not noticed in school? He ignored her now. Had he always ignored her? She didn't think so. She remembered how he used to smile at her when she hung onto his arm. She liked that memory._

_Not as much as she liked dancing though. That was her escape now. He hated that she went to these clubs to dance. He thought it was demeaning. He was wrong. It wasn't demeaning. It was empowering. Almost as empowering as the needles. Those made her feel spectacular. Better than he had ever made her feel. _

_But what did his opinion matter? He didn't even want her anymore. She'd given everything to him. And he'd taken it. All of it. And always wanted more. And then, when she had nothing else to give. He was done with her. _

_But others still wanted her. Plenty of people still wanted her. And she could make them want her by dancing. And she loved to dance. That ball should have been so much more fun. But he wasn't a good dancer. At least with non-formal dancing. She hadn't cared then. He hadn't started taking things yet. He'd been sweet, then._

_Someone was dancing with her. He was strong. And tall. And handsome. And familiar. She shouldn't have taken the needles. Or the alcohol. She knew him. And she knew him well. But she couldn't remember him. She didn't care. He was a good dancer. His hands were all over her. He wanted her. And she liked that. _

_It wasn't even a question when he asked to go outside with her. She wanted him and he wanted her. It seemed so easy. So without qualm. She kissed him. He laughed quietly and pressed her against the wall. She liked when they took charge. She liked it so much she wasn't even sure when his hands wrapped around her neck. _

Chapter One

Monday, September 16, 2002.

It was raining. It always seemed to be raining when Harry Potter had to be in the field on a Monday morning. He paused for just a moment under an overhang just outside of the Underground. Harry took the last sip of his coffee and tossed the Styrofoam cup into the nearby metal garbage can. His partner was supposed to meet him, but she was nowhere to be seen.

That didn't bother him, though. He'd always been better in the mornings than she was. And there was no telling just what she'd been doing when the floo roared at four fifteen in the morning. And frankly he didn't really want to know. She'd been annoyed at his calling her so early. But he'd been told to get to the park and see if they could take care of the investigation. He wasn't sure who gave the tip, and he couldn't tell her any more than that. He'd left as soon as he'd closed the floo. He saw the Muggle police gathered in the nearby park and figured she'd be able to figure it out when she arrived. He flipped up the collar of his long black coat and stepped into the rain.

He didn't bother waiting at the crosswalk, as there wasn't a pair of headlights in sight, and it wasn't like he'd get arrested. He slipped a hand into his coat pocket as he stepped into the edge of the small park.

It wasn't an overly large park. Just a few trees that were changing color with the seasons and a couple of benches. There was a path straight through it, with a couple of diverging walks as well. It was probably fairly crowded during the day. One of the Muggle police officers approached him as he was surveying the park.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the officer said. Harry noticed he was cordoning off the crime scene. He'd probably gotten there much quicker than anyone had expected, but that was the benefit of Apparation.

"I was assigned here," Harry said. He pulled out his badge and ID and handed it to the patrolman as he ducked under the caution tape. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement badge was charmed so Muggles would see him as an Inspector for a nearby station. Squibs and Magicals saw his standard DMLE rank and credentials. Harry gazed around the few cops there while the footman reviewed his Identification. He recognized one of the other first responders there as a Squib. Harry couldn't recall his name, but the Ministry paid him to help make sure other cops weren't too suspicious of his presence at a case like this.

"I see, well, welcome, Inspector Potter," the officer said as he handed back his badge. Harry pocketed it and nodded to the cop.

"I wish we met under better circumstances," Harry said quietly. "My partner's lagging a bit behind, but she should be here shortly.

"Shitty wake-up call, hey?" the cop asked. He was trying to be friendly, but it was four thirty in the morning and Harry wasn't particularly in the mood.

"About as shitty of an end to a patrol," Harry said. "That the body over there?" He gestured to the small tent-shaped tarp by the three other officers at the scene. It was a stupid question, he knew, but it changed the topic easily enough.

"Yea. We didn't want it to get wet," the officer said dumbly. Harry looked at him. The cop couldn't have been much older than him. And he supposed a stupid question probably gets a stupid answer. And, he was infinitely more experienced than people his age. He walked over toward the body, knowing full well the patrolman followed him.

"Who found it?" he asked.

"I did, sir," another young patroller said. Harry nodded at him.

"When?" Harry asked. The shift into cop mode had always been easy. He flipped out a small notebook and a pencil and started to take notes on what the officer said, doing his best to not let the paper get wet. A stay-dry spell would have been nice, but he couldn't very well whip out his wand here.

"Around quarter to four, sir," the officer admitted. Harry was fairly surprised. The ball was rolling on this one much quicker than usual. Typically, on a public crime scene like this, they'd let the Muggle police fill out their report and then take it if they had need of it. Being here this early was unusual.

"Found it as is?" he asked.

"Yes sir, she was just laying here. I mean, not too far off the path. My patrol cuts through the park. I come in from the north and then head off down that lane. There were some neighborhood complaints a couple months back. Nothing ever came of them but it was easy to alter the patrol. I noticed her body a few feet off the path. It was pretty clear she was dead. I went and called in backup and came back to set up the tent. I'm rather amazed you made it here so quickly," the cop explained. Harry gazed down the cop's route. He could figure out the patrol easy enough just from the basic directions.

"I was in the area," he lied. "When's forensics due?" Harry knew it was best to not let the cops think too much about some of the basic, weak statements he'd give.

"Should be here any minute, really," the third cop, the squib, said. Harry nodded to him, wishing he could remember the man's name.

"Any cause of death imminent. Or any clue when the body was put here?" Harry asked. He knew it wouldn't lead to any helpful answers, but going in with more information was helpful.

"There's a couple of possibilities on the cause of death. As for the rest of it, I'm not sure. I'm certainly no pathologist," the cop who'd found the body spoke. Harry nodded at him. He wasn't either. His partner was thinking about moving into that field, but it hadn't interested him.

"Well, I'm going to take a peek. Make sure no one unauthorized comes into the area. And see if you can see anything else," he ducked under the makeshift tent while the other two cops fanned out around the crime scene.

He felt his eyebrows arch as he recognized the body immediately. The squib joined him, squatting under the flap to take a look as well. Harry attempted to stay as passive as possible as he gave a preliminary examination, jotting down what notes he could.

The victim was female, he'd write aged 18-25, but he knew she was the same age as him. Hair color: brown. Height: approximately 5'5". Weight approximately 100 pounds, but it could have been less. She looked far skinnier than he remembered, but the school uniform certainly was bulky. She was clothed in a short, pale, silver dress that had accumulated dirt quite effectively. The bottom was slit clean up the waist to around her navel. She wore no underwear. She wore no shoes. Her face and arms were bruised. Dried blood caked to her skin in a few spots, but Harry couldn't see any open wounds. His gut told him it was her blood, but they wouldn't know until the autopsy had been performed.

One earring was missing and there were bits of gold chain littering the ground around her neck. A broken necklace. Harry jotted down the note. A cursory glance and he suspected the entire necklace was in present, but had likely been ripped off her neck. He saw a faint marking that confirmed the suspicion. She also wore a bracelet that appeared to be whole. He noticed faint pink marks on her arm as well. But they didn't look particularly fresh, and there didn't appear to be any sort of pattern to them. There were also bruises around her neck.

But the eyes were always the most striking feature. No matter how many times he gazed into the cold, apathetic stare of death it always shook him. It had been a few years since he'd had to see it on the face of someone he knew.

He could also feel the leftover magic in her body. Every relatively fresh magical corpse had the same feel. It faded, slowly, after death. Usually within a day, but depending on the skill of the witch or wizard it could be longer. The victim's felt rather excessive, which could indicate spells used on her person before death. It was a stretch, but he made a note of it anyway.

"So, since you're here, I assume this isn't a typical rape and murder?" the squib cop asked. Harry paused for a moment, focusing on what he knew about the man. He knew his name started with a G. He took a shot in the dark.

"No idea, Gary," he said. The Squib just nodded so he assumed he guessed right. Which was good, as he prided himself on his memory. It was handy in his profession. "She didn't have a bag or anything on her?"

"Not that we've found," Gary admitted. "I'd have looked through that for a wand and identification immediately. But I assume you know her? She's about your age."

"She was in my year at school," Harry said. "I didn't know her very well." Gary was twenty years his senior, but Harry remembered he was a good judge of age, amongst other things. The squib was really just a good overall cop. Harry admired his work.

"Yea, so, why are you here?" Gary asked again. Harry just shook his head.

"I have no idea. I'd tell you if I did," Harry lied. He probably wouldn't tell Gary much had he known anything. Just enough to state his interest. "I was called just a few minutes before I got here. I wasn't given any information past the location."

"Is that normal?" Gary asked.

"No." Harry shook his head. "It's highly unusual. There wouldn't have been any way of knowing the victim was, well, you know, before identification anyway. We'll see what comes of it, I guess." He gave the body one more look before sliding the cover back over his head and rising up to his feet. He was just in time to see Hannah Abbott slide under the caution tape.

"You can't be here ma'am," the first officer said. Hannah was going for his badge but Harry shook her off.

"That's my partner, Inspector Abbott," Harry said. The cop nodded.

"What do we have, Harry?" Hannah said, yawning a bit. Her blonde hair was a mess. She didn't look like she'd had the benefit of apparating into a subway coffee shop before coming to the park. He just handed her his notes.

"Take a look, I'm going to look around the scene," he said. She nodded and slipped under the tent. He paced around the crime scene, examining the ground and nearby trees for anything that could be considered a clue. He knew he'd be more likely to find something if the killer was a Muggle. Magical murders were very challenging to solve by just having the body. After all, it was fairly easy to simply Portkey it, or apparate with it, to a drop point and leave. Typically they'd perform some spells on the body and gather what evidence they could. As Dumbledore had told him years ago, magic always leaves a trace. And one of the first things he'd been taught as an Auror was how to sense that trace.

"Pansy Parkinson?" Hannah asked as she emerged from the tent. She tossed his small notebook to him. He caught it rather easily, with the grace of a former seeker, and slid the pencil out of the steel rings. He made a note about how he found nothing significant on his look over the crime scene.

"Indeed," Harry said. Hannah walked over by him and spoke more quietly.

"Well we know why we were called," she said. "No wand?"

"None. Gary, the older policeman, is a squib. He looked for one, along with identification. Couldn't find anything. But we can't be here because of who it is. They wouldn't have known. I got the call about fifteen, twenty minutes after they'd found the body."

"True," Hannah said. "I'm so not staying till five if they call me at four in the morning," Hannah said. Harry laughed a little bit, she would be thinking about what time to get off at that point.

"I doubt I will either. I'm not sure if we should Obliviate them and take the body to an examiner or let their forensics team give it the look over," Harry said. Magical forensics usually focused a bit more on magic and magical wounds. In certain cases that wasn't enough.

"What did they say when they floo'd you?"

"Just to observe and file a report and to hurry there," Harry said. "I didn't think much of it at the time. Mostly because I was pretty much asleep at the time."

"Well, we can file a report, and we're observing," Hannah said. "I say let their forensics team do the preliminaries. If their report doesn't end up being satisfactory we can always step in and get the body over to one of ours."

"Sounds smart," he said. Hannah nodded.

"And I don't feel like performing a bunch of memory charms on an empty stomach," she added. Harry nodded, he didn't either. For all he knew they'd all have a permanent craving for pancakes when he was done.

"Also sounds smart," he yawned. She hit him. Hannah hated whenever he yawned as it always just made her yawn as well, which she did a few moments later.

"Do we wait, then?" she asked, as she finished yawning.

"No. Their report won't be done completely until after their autopsy. And the DMLE won't be open for a few hours yet. I say coffee and breakfast and we'll brainstorm," Harry said. Hannah groaned a bit.

"I say sleep, but coffee and breakfast works," she responded as they took their leave from the Muggle police officers.

They walked back toward the Underground and once they were out of sight they apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. The place was empty except for Tom. They grabbed a table in the corner and Tom brought over some coffee. Harry sipped his and coffee and ordered some eggs and pancakes. Harry was rather famished. Hannah leaned against the wall and sipped her coffee as well, closing her clear blue eyes for a moment before she ordered an eggs Benedict.

"I always liked the Leaky Cauldron," she said simply, opening her eyes and looking around.

"Me too," Harry laughed quietly. "First place I saw of the Magical world."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. Harry wasn't known for speaking much about his pre-Hogwarts life, even with his partner.

"Really. On my eleventh birthday. Hagrid brought me in here. Half the people in here came up to introduce themselves. I had no idea what was going on. I've never felt more uncomfortable in my life," He admitted. Hannah laughed softly and sipped her coffee.

"I bet. And at eleven you hadn't mastered that Auror stare you give people that come up to you in the field yet," she said. Harry nodded.

"Best part of the job," he laughed. "At least most people are smart enough to stay out of our way."

"Most," Hannah laughed. There were still quite a few people that would run up to him just to shake his hand or say something to him.

"Most," Harry agreed. "But that's what the stare is for."

"I wish you could teach me it," she yawned. He wasn't sure what exactly it was. But Harry had mastered the blank expression and hard eyes that truly made people realize they didn't need to be talking to him at that moment. It was very handy, even if it made him seem to have a somewhat cold demeanor in public. Still, he wasn't a high enough ranking Auror that he had to give public statements or interviews on cases much. Which was handy. Although he knew Kingsley wanted him to move up in the department more.

"Just try to look mean and stare at them expressionlessly. Get the whole Queen Victoria 'we are not amused' thing going," he explained.

"If only it was that easy," She sighed as their food came. Harry sipped his coffee before starting on his eggs. Harry decided talking about work probably wouldn't be the best idea for the meal, especially when work was the battered body of a former schoolmate, so he changed the subject.

"So did things with you and Ernie ever work out?" he asked.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Thanks for helping me move out, by the way," she said. He nodded a bit.

"No problem," he said. "I'm surprised you didn't curse him." Ernie had struck Hannah in the middle of an argument. Apparently he'd always been a tad abrasive. Harry wouldn't have guessed, and she'd always been a bit demure. But she was a trained Auror, and Harry saw her take out two former Death Eaters by herself.

"Didn't seem to be much of a point," she said. "I just wanted to get out of there and not have to fill out a form as to why I attacked my ex."

"Probably smart," Harry said. "Interested in anyone else?"

"It's only been a couple of weeks, Harry, what kind of girl do you take me for?" Harry just stared at her and after a few moments she sighed. "I've gone out with Theodore Nott and Seamus Finnegan since then."

"Really?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure what Seamus had been doing lately. He always seemed to be between jobs and was never particularly interested in one thing for very long. Theodore, however, was an advocate at the ministry. He'd gotten a couple of former Death Eaters off with the Imperius defense. He was certainly Harry's least favorite face amongst the advocates at the ministry. But, even Harry had to admit, he was smart, and damn good at what he did.

"Yes. I knew you wouldn't approve of Nott," she laughed.

"I'm not sure me approving it is relevant," he responded. She nodded, indicating that it wasn't. "Things serious with either?"

"After a week? Hell no. Theodore just asked me to dinner a few days after and I figured I should probably get out of the apartment. I'll probably go out with Seamus again this weekend. He said he was having a get together with some old school friends."

"Could be fun," Harry said, half wondering if he'd receive an invite.

"You're welcome to come. But fair warning, Ginny is going to be there with her new boy toy," she said. She looked carefully at him as she spoke, as if waiting to gauge his reaction.

"We'll see," he said. He'd probably go, just to hang around with some old school friends again and see what everyone was up to. But he likely wouldn't stay long. "She still with the Chaser?" Harry couldn't remember his name. He thought he played for Tutshill, or maybe it was Ballycastle.

"I think so," Hannah said. "I never really followed the sport."

"Me either," he admitted as he finished his breakfast and went back to his coffee. Hannah still had about half of her meal left so he simply started to page through his notebook while she finished. He'd been her partner for two years and knew she disliked when people watched her eat.

Still, he'd been surprised when Hannah Abbott had joined the Auror academy after her seventh year. She'd never seemed the type to go into law enforcement while at school. She'd been passable while in Dumbledore's Army, but he always felt like she was there more because Susan and Ernie were than any particular interest on her own part. She'd claimed the Death Eater control of Hogwarts her seventh year had pushed her toward the career choice.

Regardless of why she'd joined up, they'd gone through the academy quickly. Mostly because the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was desperate for more bodies after the war. They'd been assigned as partners to older, more experienced agents for their first few years in the force.

At least until the Battle of Oxford. Harry still winced at the memory. It had been the last time Death Eaters attempted to make a final stand against the Aurors. There had only been about fifty of Voldemort's staunchest, most insane, followers left, as well as some hired wands, but the direct conflict was bloody. Hannah's partner took a Reducto at nearly point blank range. There hadn't been much of him left. Harry's had retired shortly after the battle. Since then, they'd been working together. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, but it had worked out fairly well.

"So, what about you, any steamy hot dates?" Hannah asked as she took a bite of egg. She knew him well enough to know he could talk and read his notes at the same time. And that he wasn't really reading his notes, just paging through them in an attempt to both pass the time and stay awake.

"No," he said. "I ran into Cho a couple of weeks back and had lunch with her. She seems to be doing fairly well. Lavender Brown asked me out too, but I don't want to go there," he admitted.

"I don't blame you. Susan ever ask you out?" she asked as they both took another sip of coffee.

"No, she didn't," Harry said, looking up at her. "Was she supposed to?"

"Well if she wanted to," Hannah responded. "She always said she was going to. From like, fourth year on."

"Well she never did," Harry said. He was rather amused by that. He doubted he'd have agreed to anything while in school, but now he'd consider it.

"Pity," Hannah responded dryly. "What about that advocate you're always looking at back at the office?"

"Her?" Harry thought about it for a moment. "Sure she's hot, but I just don't see that working out."

"You spend a lot of time with her," Hannah teased.

"No more than you. She's a junior prosecutor after all," Harry laughed. "And she's good. And at least likes to know what we think about the cases before prosecuting. Besides I don't think she and I would get along very well."

"Probably not," Hannah agreed. "May be worth a shot though. Get Ginny out of your system."

"She's hardly still in my system," Harry laughed. And she wasn't, really, but that didn't prevent people from mentioning her constantly. He wondered if it was because of their fame. He as Harry Potter, and her as the star chaser for the Harpies, or if it was something people just noticed in school. Either way he didn't really care. She was his friend's sister, and that was it. Sure, she'd been more, but it hadn't panned out. They'd both gotten over it.

"I guess you're right. But you were more smiley and happy when you were with Felicity. Whatever happened there?" Hannah asked. She was referring to Felicity Hillard, a beater and the captain of the Tutshill Tornadoes. They'd had a bit of a fling over the summer, but it had never been particularly serious. Hannah knew her vaguely as she'd been in Hufflepuff, a few years ahead of them.

"She got busy with quidditch again and it wasn't ever that serious. I'll probably still go out with her here and there," Harry admitted. Hannah nodded a bit. She'd finished her breakfast and was leaning backwards against the wall. She closed her blue eyes as Tom came back around to refill their coffee.

"I see. Well she's a nice girl," Hannah said. "Want to go over the notes from the case?"

"May as well." He flipped the notebook back open.

"Victim Pansy Parkinson, female, approximately 22 years of age. Body discovered around quarter to four on the morning of the sixteenth of September. Some blood on the body, very little at the crime scene itself. Bruises consistent with blunt trauma on the legs and arms. Bruises on the neck consistent with strangulation." Harry paused when he went to turn the page. Hannah was still leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. If he hadn't known better he'd have assumed she was asleep.

"Don't forget the dots on her arms as well. Possible sign of heroin usage," she added. Harry nodded. Muggle drugs weren't particularly common in their investigations, but they'd been trained on the signs.

"Those as well," Harry said, making a note of the added information in his notebook. "Dress was in poor shape. No sign of a bag. No wand, no identification. Body identified by officers at the scene."

"Possible rape," Hannah continued. "Cause of death could have been anything from strangulation, to overdose, to magical trauma."

"Magic level in the body could have been a bit high, but we won't know until the magical autopsy. Both Aurors on the scene could sense the magic in the air. Could have been residue from recently cast spells, or could have been a trace left from whoever disposed of the body. Assuming it's a murder, and assuming the murderer is magical."

"Seems to be a pretty safe assumption with us being called in at this absurdly early hour," Hannah commented.

"Yes, but you know how well assumptions work out for Aurors," Harry responded. She just nodded.

"Anyway, preliminarily, I'd rule the cause of death as strangulation."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I didn't have time to run any tests on the body, but the wounds around the neck looked severe enough," she explained. Harry had no reason to doubt her. While she certainly wasn't an expert yet, she did have an interest in pathology and was better at it than he was.

"So are you're leaning toward murder?"

"Obviously."

"Ruling out a magical murderer?" Harry asked. Sure it was fairly rare for a magical person to be killed by a Muggle, but it wasn't unheard of. Usually, though, it wasn't in a case of physical, close proximity violence.

"Not at all. Have to think there'd be more evidence at the crime scene if it wasn't one. Just doesn't appear magic was used in the murder. There's pretty standard signs from a stunner or body-bind, like tensed muscles, and she seemed like any other body. And there's something we weren't told. We'll have to ask Dawlish." She referred to John Dawlish, the current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry didn't particularly care for the man, but, for now, he was his boss.

"True," Harry said. "Well we don't have a whole lot to work with."

"That we don't," Hannah agreed. "What do you say, head into the office a tad early so I don't fall asleep in the Leaky Cauldron and write up the report to present it to Dawlish as soon as he gets into the office?" Harry nodded as she finished and took a final sip of his coffee. He checked his watch, it was just after six in the morning.

"Be nice to make some decent tea, too," he admitted. "Of course, we could just rent out one of the rooms for a few hours to kill some time before going in."

"Or we could just go in to work," she laughed, but blushed. Part of him enjoyed teasing Hannah. She'd often get all quiet and flushed like when he'd help her back at D.A meetings. And she gave him enough shit about his own life that she had it coming every now and again. He laughed with her and left some coins on the bar for Tom.

"Yea, that's probably the best bet. I want to figure out why we got sent out here," Harry said.

"Me too," Hannah added. "Hopefully there's actually something involved and we just didn't draw the short end of the stick."

"Hopefully," Harry agreed as they rose from the table and moved over toward the fire. Harry grabbed some of the powder from above it and tossed it into the flames before gesturing for Hannah to go first. She stepped into the fire, annunciating the department name clearly.

Harry sighed and gazed around the Leaky Cauldron before he did the same. He knew nothing good could come out of this week. But after the start, how much worse could it get? He shook that thought out of his head as the floo transported him to the ministry.

Author's note: And that's chapter one. There's a couple of ways this could go. I haven't planned it nearly as much as I usually do with a fic. I have pretty much who the victims will be, and the end of the story worked out. But I think I'm going to see how Harry's Auror life develops a bit rather than planning it all out. Which isn't something I particularly like to do.

Also probably worth noting is that I've never in my life written a mystery. In fact, I don't even read a whole lot of them. I'm aware that my writing style isn't particularly conducive to the genre, but it was something I felt like giving a try. So I am rather outside of my comfort zone, but no one ever improved by staying in their comfort zone.

As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for any reviews, I appreciate all the feedback I can get. I'm sure I didn't do the British judicial system justice here, and that I should have researched it more. I probably will as this continues on, but for now tried to get by as best I could. And, like most of my fics, the title is subject to change. I'm not sure it grasps the theme I want, but I figured I'd rather post it than labor for a few more hours on a title. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit. Also I have no beta so any mistakes are my own.

Chapter 2

Harry stepped out of the fire and moved toward the lifts. Hannah was already waiting for him with her arm in the door holding it open. He had to marvel at just how empty the atrium of the ministry was at the early hour. It wouldn't remain empty for very long, as the other officials would start to filter in for their days soon.

Harry moved quickly across the atrium and stepped into the lift next to Hannah. She dropped her arm and the lift closed. Moments later they were stepping off on the second floor and walking under the large sign for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They turned the corner and walked toward the heavy oak doors that led to the Auror Office. Harry opened one for Hannah to step through before following her into their office.

"I'm going to go start some tea," she said, moving off toward the small kitchen and break-room they had.

"Earl Grey, please," Harry said. Hannah just nodded as Harry continued over to their desks. They shared a cubicle in one of the corners. They, and a few other new Aurors, had been shoved there shortly after the war when there had been an influx of bodies. The rest had moved out of the cramped corner in the passing years, but Hannah and Harry had stayed. They'd combined the cubicles into a much larger work space when they became partners.

He shrugged off his coat and placed it on the back of his chair. He should have probably hung it up, but it was so much easier to simply utilize the chair. He took his notebook from the pocket and started to fill out the paperwork for the report they'd present to Dawlish.

He started to transcribe their findings into something a tad more presentable than his chicken-scrawled notes. He started with the basic facts of the case, making sure all of the pertinent information was clear in the report.

After that he made mention of the fact that both he and Hannah sensed magic in the corpse, and that there was little disturbance in the surrounding area which led them to believe the body had simply been dropped their at some point in time.

He was adding in bits about what the Muggle officers at the scene had explained to them as Hannah returned with their tea. She set the cups down daintily and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Fearsome cops we are," Harry said, nodding toward the decorative tea cups. Hannah laughed with him.

"They were the cleanest, now shut up or I'll make you read the leaves," she teased.

"We both know how futile that would be," he laughed, sliding over the first couple of pages of the report for her to read. She took them and sipped her tea. He finished up the bit about the Muggle cops before deciding the report was complete. Well, that his part of the report was complete. Hannah was already filling out more information about the body. The medical and forensics parts of the reports often fell to her.

So Harry just leaned back in his chair and enjoyed his tea. He let his eyes close for a few moments, listening as Hannah finished the report. They often worked in silence. Well, usually Hannah hummed a popular pop song, or something of that nature, while they worked. But they had enough chemistry to often not need to communicate. He slid the last page of the report over to her without even opening his eyes. He knew where she'd be, and that she'd take it and look it over when she was done with her additions to the previous pages.

"Alright, those should be good," she said as she slid the pages back to him. Harry opened his eyes and started to look over her additions and revisions. They prided themselves on concise and accurate reports. He thought it looked good so he slid the pages to a spot on his desk where he wasn't likely to spill tea on them.

A few moments later copies of the Prophet appeared on each of their desks. They were delivered daily to the ministry and from there divided amongst the employees who had subscriptions at the office. It sure beat having a gaggle of owls fly through each level of the ministry building. Harry picked up the paper and laughed at the opening headline.

"Well Nott will not be happy about that one," he said. Hannah was still finishing looking over the final page of the report and didn't bother reaching for her paper.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Burick got life in Azkaban," Harry said with a self-satisfied smile.

"Really?" Hannah perked up a bit. That case had hit home with her. "I thought the rumors was Nott had some sort of amazing alibi worked up." Harry barely registered her comments as he was perusing the article, reading the summary of the case he'd known all too well.

Allen Burick was a wealthy middle-aged wizard who'd spent the majority of his life in Birmingham. He'd found out he was rather good with mind control magic. Memory charms, Imperius curse, even magic to create memories for people.

Harry and Hannah had responded to a few reports from parents in Birmingham that their children were acting strange. They'd thought nothing of it at the time. It was a slow week at the department and they doubted it would be anything more than confused parents.

Even when they'd arrived Harry hadn't though much of it. The questioning seemed pretty standard. Harry thought the kids were just being a but sullen, although they were a tad young for that.

But Hannah found it odd when three of the little girls all had terribly similar memories. Her hunch kept them in Birmingham for a couple of more days. And when a fourth girl disappeared for a day,Harry still just assumed she was a runaway. She'd fought with her parents and stormed out. But when she returned home the next day with no memory of the incident, and very similar memories to the other girls Harry realized Hannah's hunch was probably correct.

Soon, though, Harry found himself cursing magic. They could tell something was wrong with the girls, but none of them recalled what it was, or could even give them the vaguest of hints of what was going on. They'd tried to get ministry Obliviators in to see if they could reverse the memory magic, but it hadn't worked. So instead they stayed. And it certainly had taken a while to justify the three weeks of hotel they'd billed the department for while they tried to find any clue.

Eventually, just when they were going to leave, Hannah saw something that bothered her. She watched as one of the girls they'd been interviewing, the runaway, flinched away from a man on the street. When Hannah questioned her on it, she wasn't even aware of what happened, and she had no recollection of the man. Hannah immediately followed him, leaving Harry to take the girl home and come find his partner.

He found her in a park, leaning against a tree not too far from a kids play area. She'd charmed herself to blend in. Had Aurors not had a charm on each other when on duty that allowed for them to locate their partner he wouldn't have noticed her. He charmed himself the same way and joined her. They watched in silence.

When the man and the girl, whom couldn't have been older than ten, left the park the two Aurors followed in silence. They followed the man to a small house not far from the park and watched as he disappeared inside, his hand sliding far too far down the girl's back as they stepped into the entryway.

"Probably cause?" Hannah asked, looking up at him. Her blue eyes were filled with hate, her shoulders were tense, and she was visibly trembling. She already had her wand drawn Harry stared at her for a moment. His gut reaction was to tell her to calm down, to tell her they needed more information. But he couldn't. Instead, his hand slid into his pocket, and his fingers wrapped around holly and phoenix feather.

"Probably cause," he confirmed as Hannah stormed ahead of him and into the building. They moved silently through the hallways, using the practiced stealth techniques they'd been taught. Harry cut in front of Hannah as they stepped up the stairs.

The bedroom door was open, the man sat on the bed. The girl in front of him. He had his wand out and was directing her as she slipped off her clothing. He saw Harry first, and the wand slashed. Harry dodged the curse easily enough, and watched the red light shoot from behind him. And Hannah so rarely missed.

They'd bound him and transported him back to Auror headquarters. He'd never admitted to anything, and they'd feared the only thing they could get him on would be assaulting an Auror. None of the girls remembered him at all. Not even the one with him at the time. She couldn't even recall being in the park. And none of them could claim anything happened. And it hadn't helped that sometime while in custody Burick had managed to alter his own memoires so that he had no recollection of any of it either. Harry expected Nott, who wound up representing him, had been involved with that.

"Earth to Harry?" Hannah said. He realized he was just rehashing the case in his head.

"Sorry, what?" He asked, blushing a bit as he looked back up at her. "I was thinking about the case. Got a tad lost in thought."

"I don't blame you," she admitted, sighing softly and sliding the last bit of the report toward him. Harry compile the sheets and set them aside.

"Everything good to go there?" he asked, nodding toward the papers. She nodded back.

"Yes it's fine. Now we just wait to ambush Dawlish when he finally comes in," she responded.

"I doubt an ambush would work. We should give him at least ten minutes," he laughed as he took another sip of his tea.

"Maybe not. So the alibi didn't work?" she asked and he remembered that she was wondering about that before he zoned completely out.

"No. The judge decided the word of two decorated Aurors was greater than that of a perspective criminal. He stated that the removal of the memories was akin to an admission of guilt. The memories we both submitted of our little raid on his property trumped his lack of memory of the same event," Harry explained as he skimmed the bits on the ruling from the paper.

"Very nice," Hannah smirked.

"Yes. Apparently if he'd have kept the memory of attacking us the judge would have considered not having enough evidence to convict him of more than just assaulting an Auror. But the complete lack of memories was apparently enough of a sham that the judge decided he was likely hiding something, so he convicted him," Harry paraphrased the last couple of paragraphs of the article.

"Theodore isn't going to like that. Is he going to appeal?" Hannah asked, peering over at him over her drink.

"Probably," Harry said. "But he'll need a different judge, or to discredit our memories, to have any shot at an appeal, and I'm not sure he'll be able to do either of that."

"Good," Hannah said. "I should have hit him with a blasting curse and not a stunner."

"You didn't want to hit the girl," Harry said. "A stunner was the safe bet and you know it. Besides, the paperwork would have really been a pain in the ass had you blasted him."

"Probably," she admitted. "But the thought of him getting off. Ugh." She made a rather disgusted face that caused Harry to chuckle just a little bit under his breath.

"That was one of the reasons I was rather surprised you went out with Nott," Harry said. They'd both changed rather disparaging words for the young lawyer in their time as Aurors.

"Sometimes you have to leave work at work," Hannah said with a smile. Harry laughed a little bit.

"I guess, I've never been particularly good at that."

"I know," she smiled. "Sometimes, though, Harry, you just have to accept that you're off duty."

"Only when sleeping," He teased. She laughed with him.

"If only I thought you believed that," she smiled. Harry shrugged. So what if he was just a little bit of a workaholic. He liked his job and felt it benefitted everyone if he worked hard and as often as he could. It wasn't like he didn't take his days off, either. His social life wasn't too bad, either. But he was still a paparazzi target, which could often be a problem, despite how good his Auror glare was becoming.

Still, some of the press had backed off a bit since Harry had become an Auror. At least some of them figured his public service was enough to leave him alone. But articles about relationships were common. Especially when he was seen dining with a quidditch starlet.

The two just sat at their desks, letting the time pass. They chatted idly about their weekends, upcoming plans, and the news in the paper as they both read it quietly. Some of the other Aurors came over to talk briefly as they filtered in to the office. None of them asked about why Harry and Hannah were in earlier than normal. And there was no mention of a strange murder that morning.

Harry watched John Dawlish enter the office. He watched as the head of the department strode across the main office and through the doors into his own office. He shut the door immediately after he entered the office. Dawlish certainly wasn't particularly personable. Hannah didn't appear to notice him, as she was reading the Prophet at the time, but he highly doubted that she didn't see him. They were trained to be observant after all. Harry just flipped to the sports section and looked over the news. After he'd finished with that Hannah put her own paper down.

"Alright, let's go talk to him," she said. Harry nodded and put the Prophet down and picked up their short report from the crime scene.

"Alright," he said as he shuffled the papers together into a neat pile and stood up. "After you." Hannah just nodded and stood. Harry had to admit, he didn't mind the view of her tight jeans as he walked behind her toward Dawlish's office. Hannah knocked on the heavy door once. There wasn't an answer. So she knocked again, louder, and then just let herself in to the office. Dawlish looked fairly annoyed, but gestured for them to sit at the two chairs in front of his desk. Harry did, but Hannah took a moment to hand him the report.

"This couldn't have waited?" Dawlish asked.

"The situation seemed too unusual, sir," Hannah said. Harry typically let her do most of the talking. She was usually more polite and just about everyone, from the department head to confused witnesses, found it easier to get along with her usually cheerful demeanor.

"Well what's it about?" he asked as he paged through the report in a way that made it seem like he wasn't interested in what the pages entailed. Of course, Harry couldn't particularly blame him, as if he'd had to read every report that came through the department he wouldn't be too interested either.

"The crime scene we were sent to this morning," Hannah said. "While the Muggle police were still there."

"Oh, you were the two called in to that?" Dawlish said. His eyes widened just a little bit and he seemed to pay more attention to the report.

"Yes, we were," Harry responded dryly. He'd assumed Dawlish had made the call, as they weren't supposed to be on call that evening.

"I told the dispatcher either you two or Burns and Crawford," Dawlish said as he read the report. Harry couldn't help but find that to be a bit of a compliment. Burns and Crawford were two of the most respected Aurors in the business. Being compared with them was rather good news for the junior Aurors. Hannah and Harry gave him a few moments to get through it. He frowned as he placed it back down.

"Pansy Parkinson? I know the family," he said. "You're positive on the identification?"

"Yes," Hannah said. "We wondered if we would be informing the family."

"If you're willing to take the case, then probably," Dawlish said. Harry laughed quietly.

"We get a choice in the matter after being called to the crime scene and finding one of our classmates dead?" He tried to not sound annoyed by the older man. Really, he'd never managed to forgive Dawlish for helping Umbridge out all those years ago.

"You shouldn't let the case become personal, you know that, Potter," Dawlish said. Harry knew making a snotty comment back would likely just prove the point. And he knew Dawlish was right, nothing good ever came from making the case personal.

"Sorry sir," Harry said quietly. Hannah took that moment to take over the conversation.

"We'd prefer to continue on with the investigation, sir," she said sweetly. Dawlish nodded. "We already identified the victim and made a baseline with the Squib on the case, as well as the other officers."

"Which would make it inconvenient," Dawlish admitted. The department head always liked to take the easiest way out.

"Yes it would. So it's probably best to avoid that," Hannah said. Dawlish nodded his agreement.

"You are quite correct, Miss Abbott," Dawlish said, slipping into a little more formality than he typically used.

"So I guess we're in charge of this one?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes. But I do have some preliminary information to go over. It's not going to go over well that the victim is from a prominent pureblood family," Dawlish let his voice trail off as he spoke. Harry just shook his head. He couldn't help but be annoyed that Dawlish was taking so long to get to the point.

"It never goes over well regardless," Harry said.

"Right you are, Mr. Potter," Dawlish said. He reached into his desk and took out a basic brown paper bag. He placed them on his desk.

"Last night this was dropped off at my front door," he said. Hannah leaned forward to inspect the bag. Her interest was clear on her face. Harry remained in his seat, doing his absolute best to remain impassive. After reaching into his desk and grabbing a laminated sheet of paper, Dawlish continued. "It came with a rather simple note." He handed the paper across the desk to Hannah. She looked at it for just a few moments, long enough to commit it to memory, before passing it to Harry. The messege on it was simple.

_ They will all pay. Every. Last. One._

There was also a strange symbol he didn't recognize. It appeared to be a series of complex runes, but it wasn't anything he could recognize, even upon closer examination. The writing was clearly done magically. Harry could tell with just a cursory glance at the paper. It seemed to shimmer, ever so slightly, giving away that it wasn't a pen or a quill, but a wand that formed the words. He handed the piece of paper back across the desk to Dawlish.

"And you think it's related?" Hannah asked.

"Honestly, Miss Abbott, I have no idea. Whoever dropped it off banged on my door before apparating away. After that I contacted the dispatcher and told her to send Aurors to any violent crime scene reported by the Muggles. Some point after that you two were called to that crime scene. I do; however, think that it will be fairly easy to find out if the two events are related," Dawlish said.

"How so, sir?" Harry asked. Now he was generally curious. Dawlish lifted his wand from where it rested on his desk and pointed it at the paper bag. He raised it slowly, magically pulling the contents of the bag out.

"This came with the note," he said as a clear glass case floated out of the bag. Inside the case, though, was a wand. Harry and Hannah looked at each other for a moment before Hannah spoke up.

"Exactly like that?" Hannah asked. Dawlish nodded.

"The note was folded on top of the case. It had a water-proofing charm on it, despite being under an awning and out of the rain. I dispelled the charm and put it into the lamination. I did not touch either with my hands," Dawlish explained. Harry nodded as an Auror he'd been trained to react in the same way.

"I assume this type of thing is uncommon, even for the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Hannah asked as she examined the wand.

"It is. It is not unheard of. I've received threats at my home before, as well as had some things dropped off in the past. But it is not common practice. Usually things are properly marked. My home address is not supposed to be common knowledge, but there's ways around that," Dawlish said. Harry nodded his understand at that lament. His address wasn't supposed to be public knowledge either, but that hadn't stopped a vast majority of reporters and well wishers from finding his apartment.

"And you've yet to identify the wand?" Harry asked.

"No. I hadn't known something would come of it so soon. I was going to gather everyone up when they arrived and see if anything strange had happened. You two beat me to it," Dawlish explained. Harry nodded a bit, they had been in early after all. He checked his watch quickly and saw that it was still before nine in the morning, when Aurors were required to be in the office, unless out in the field on duty.

"So if this wand belongs to Miss Parkinson we could be looking at the beginning stages of a serial killer," Hannah said as she examined the case carefully.

"There would certainly be signs of that, Miss Abbott," Dawlish responded with a quick nod.

"That wouldn't be good," Harry said dumbly. There was a brief silence in the room that indicated agreement.

"No. It would not be," Dawlish said.

"Especially if the target is purebloods. Granted, that may be a stretch from this note. It could be anything from women, to Hogwarts students, but that certainly wouldn't sit well. I can't imagine the blood purity crowd will be too thrilled with pureblood women being killed, either," Hannah added.

"Indeed," Dawlish agreed with her. "Was there anything unusual about the body?"

"Not that wasn't in the report," Hannah explained. "Some bruises that would be consistent with struggling. Clothing was pretty torn apart. And plenty of ugliness around the neck. I'll be sure to get the Muggle police report now that we're on the case. And I'll probably want to bring the body over to our forensics teams to see if we can pull any more information from it."

"Alright, well you two get on that then. If you need any help, let me know. But it sounds like you have it all covered. I'm sure the Parkinson's address is in our database," Dawlish said. Harry nodded.

"Yes, we should do that before the Muggle police identify her and approach," Harry said. Hannah just shrugged, though.

"I doubt they'll be able to positively identify her. No identification, nothing on the body. They'll be hoping someone fitting the description is reported missing. And they'll look for witnesses in the surrounding area, when for all we know, she could have been killed in Glasglow or Paris. It will be a classic Jane Doe for them," Hannah said. Harry supposed she was correct, but didn't particularly feel like taking that chance.

"Regardless. It'll be easier to get it over with," he said as he stood. He turned to Dawlish. "We'll keep you informed if we discover anything."

"That would be appreciated, Mr. Potter," Dawlish responded as Hannah stood and both Aurors left the office. They walked back toward their desks, Hannah carrying the newly acquired evidence with her to her desk.

"Think we should swing by the alley and identify the wand before we speak to the Parkinsons?" Hannah asked as she placed the items on her desk and started to carefully magically label them.

"Couldn't hurt," Harry said. "At the very least it would be nice to inform them that we had it. Even if it'll have to stay as evidence."

"That's what I figured. Can you make anything more out of the note other than the writing was done by magic?" she asked as she documented the note as well. Harry picked up his small case notebook and jotted down the new evidence from their meeting with Dawlish.

"Not really," Harry said. "I suspect if you can't find anything else on it I won't be able to either." Hannah nodded and used her wand to examine the note more carefully. Judging from the look on her face she didn't find anything on the paper. He let her continue with the evidence for a few minutes in silence. She was much better at this part of the investigations than he was. He preferred to do the footwork and field stuff far more than looking over pieces of paper and wands. He wasn't particularly paying attention when a woman's voice rang through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Where's Potter?" she said loudly as the large doors slammed shut behind her. It startled few of the people near the entrance. Harry poked his head above his desk and gazed over toward the entry. He groaned as she saw him and sat back down quickly.

"What the hell does she want?" he asked quietly. It was never a particularly good thing when the lawyers stormed into the department.

"Not a clue," Hannah said. She was still more engrossed in the wand than what was going on in the office. A few moments later Harry found himself stuck at his desk, his only path of escape blocked by an exceptionally attractive blonde lawyer. She was dressed very formally, lots of black, long skirt, black coat. Her hair was done up loosely to a rather nice effect.

"When are you going to pay up?" she asked. Harry blinked a bit and tried to remember just what he could have possibly owed her. Nothing sprang to mind.

"What?" he asked, thankful that he sounded as genuinely confused as he felt. She just rolled her eyes in a very pretentious way that he half admired and half hated.

"That's the weakest excuse I've heard for trying to get out of a bet," she responded. Harry frowned and looked at her.

"No, I seriously don't remember," Harry admitted. He certainly wasn't known for making bets. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked put off by the entire situation.

"You, rather offhandedly, when you heard that Theodore Nott was representing Burick, said that you would buy dinner for the winning lawyer if they could actually get a conviction," she explained.

"I vaguely remember you saying something along those lines," Hannah said without looking up from her work. The lawyer made a simple hand gesture toward his partner, as if Hannah's words settled any sort of argument. Harry still had no recollection of the event, but that didn't mean he didn't say it.

"I didn't think you were the leading attorney on the case," Harry said. He hadn't followed it that closely as he'd assumed Nott would get his client off, or at least a shorter sentence, and the thought had disgusted him.

"I wasn't. But Peterson got sick a few days before and I took over. And, as I'm sure you saw, Allen Burick is now going to Azkaban for a very long time. And as such, I want my dinner," she said. Harry couldn't help but laugh just a little bit at the whole situation.

"Alright," he said. She looked vaguely surprised. Like she thought he'd argue it more than he was. "Did you have any place in mind?"

"You're making me pick?" she frowned. He shrugged a bit.

"Well, I'd forgotten about it, and you came to claim the bet. I guess it's only fair that I pay in full at a place of your choosing," he argued.

"A valid point. There's a bistro on the corner just south of the Leaky Cauldron, on the Muggle side. Meet me there at eight," she said. She then looked at her watch and smiled sweetly. "Nice to see you again, Hannah." His partner just nodded at her as she turned on her heel and walked out of the office.

"First name basis?" Harry asked, noting how she'd called him Potter.

"Daphne calls everyone by their first name. Well, except for you," she said, casting some sort of diagnostic on Pansy Parkinson's wand. "She's very personable with the office. It makes everything easier, she claims."

"Well aren't I lucky," Harry responded dryly. "And now I have to stay awake until at least eight tonight."

"Go home early and take a nap," Hannah said dryly. "Anyway, I think you'll have fun tonight."

"Assuming she still wants to go when she hears the news," Harry said, nodding toward the wand Hannah was working on.

"Oh yes. That will make things a tad more unpleasant. But she's tough. She'll get over it in time to collect. If not, you can always take her out later in the week," Hannah responded while taking some notes on her diagnostic.

"You seem pretty intent on me going to dinner with Daphne Greengrass," Harry said. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Hannah carefully. She took a moment to respond. But when she did she looked up at him with a slight smirk.

"Like I said, I think you'll have fun with her. It can't hurt," she smiled. Harry just shook his head. She was right, it couldn't hurt. And, he knew after a day of questioning and preliminary investigation, he'd probably need to take his mind off the case. And he'd long since learned a night of company with a beautiful woman was one of the better ways to get his mind off a case.

Author's Note: Well that's chapter two. Time to really sit down and plan the rest of the story out. I'm not particularly sure if I should add another character to the description, as I don't know if this story will focus at all on relationships. But we'll see.

Anyway, thanks for reading, I appercaite any review or messege I get. I try to respond to the vast majority that ask a question or something of that nature. A PM is likely the best way to contact me if you'd like a response, as I do usually respond to all of those. Thanks again.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

I have no beta on this story so any mistakes are my own.

Chapter 3

Hannah Abbot popped into the alley first. She wasn't sure why, but somehow she'd always managed to arrive before Harry when they apparated somewhere. And she never felt nearly as sick as he looked whenever he finally arrived. She had to admit, she did take a measure of pride in being better than Harry Potter at something. She leaned up against the wall, ducking out of the rain, and waited the next few seconds for her partner to show up.

Harry Potter looked a little queasy when he first showed up. Hannah laughed quietly and said as teasingly as she could muster.

"Too many eggs this morning?"

"Must have," he groaned, shaking his head. It only took him the briefest of moments to recover.

"Wand shop or do you need to stop into the leaky cauldron and puke?" Hannah asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"I'm fine, Abbot," he spat, shaking his head a bit.

"Wand shop it is," she responded jovially, although they both knew her happiness wouldn't last long. Just as long as she stayed awake. Which given their morning wouldn't be particularly long.

"Wand shop works," Harry said. Hannah led the way. She almost always did. Harry walked a few steps behind her, examining the alley. It was certainly more populated now than it had been hours before when they'd stopped for breakfast, but there still wasn't much action. Most of the stores were just opening. Everything seemed normal. Of course, Harry hadn't expected anything to be out of the ordinary in the alley. He looked toward the entrance to Ollivander's just in time to see his partner step inside the door.

"Hey Luna," Hannah's voice rang out into the street. "Your boss around?"

"Oh!" Luna sounded startled. She always sounded startled. "Uhm, yes, he's yes," she said as Harry entered the wand shop. He gazed around, marveling to himself at how little Ollivander's had changed in the decade since he'd first stepped foot into the magical world. Luna seemed to have forgotten, for a moment at least, that she was speaking with Hannah as he entered. Instead she just looked at him, her blue eyes shining and a pale pink blush rising up her cheeks.

"Hello Luna," he said quietly as he gazed around.

"Hi Harry," she blushed more. He had to admit, she was pretty. She probably had been for a while, too, but he'd never really taken the time to look. Which, as he thought about it, was a tad absurd. After all those late nights in Dumbledore's Army, and Slughorn's ball. Strange how much fear of a dark wizard trying to kill you can alter ones perspective. He debated asking her to dinner. Part of him knew she'd go. They'd done friendly lunches in the past, but never really anything serious. Of course, he already had a date, begrudgingly, that night. So perhaps he'd come back when he wasn't busy.

"Is Garrick in trouble?" she asked carefully, her wide, inquisitive eyes sliding back and forth between the two Aurors. She'd apprenticed to Ollivander shortly after the war. He'd approached her after their time in confinement and asked if she was interested. And she had been, especially when the old coot started to explain wand lore to her.

"Not at all," Hannah said with her sweet smile that could win over just about any witness. "We would just like his help with a case."

"Is it something I could maybe help with?" She asked carefully as she glanced at a clock in the corner of the shop. "Garrick is resting." Harry was going to argue but Hannah spoke before he could.

"If you can identify this then there would be no need to bother him," she said calmly as she took the wand out of her bag and placed it on the counter in front of Luna. The inquisitive blonde looked at it for a few moments, peering around the glass case.

"Uhm, well, it's about nine inches and looks to be made of cedar. Can I take it out of the case?" she asked, her large blue eyes gazing up at Harry, her cheeks still flushed a very pale pink.

"Preferably not," Harry said quickly, which simply made the younger girl frown.

"It'll be harder to identify then," she said carefully before ducking under the large desk she stood behind and emerging a moment later with a large book. Harry couldn't help but think it was at least as large as some of the things Hermione used to check out from the library for fun. Harry saw it was labeled 'cedar' and assumed it was an inventory of the wands Ollivander had either made or sold.

"But can you do it?" Harry asked, sounding sterner than he intended. Luna looked up at him for a moment, blushed more, and quickly opened the book. He was slightly annoyed that the wand maker wasn't available, knowing full well he would have been able to identify the wand simply by touching it

"Well maybe, but I'm going to have to sort through every one that is about nine inches and made of cedar," she said quietly, trying her best to not sound disappointed. Her wide eyes locked onto Harry for a moment and he could tell the girl was trying to be helpful.

"And if you could take it out of the case?" Hannah asked, she was leaning against the counter and staring out the front window down over the alley.

"Well then I can at least tell what's inside and that will narrow the search down rather a lot," she said.

"Open it up then," Hannah responded, Harry turned and looked at her.

"But we don't want to mess with anything that could be evidence," he said.

"I already checked it at the office while you were talking with Daphne," Hannah said. "It's perfectly clean and it's not like I would have brought it out with the intention of returning it had I not looked it over."

"I guess you have a point," Harry said as Luna carefully took the wand out of the case.

"Of course I do, what do you take me for, a ministry stooge?" she teased, using the term they used for ministry officials who stood by and did nothing during the war.

"Oh no, you're my awesomely competent partner. Any interesting last spells cast?" He asked, knowing that it was incredibly difficult to look back over a wand's history after time had elapsed.

"Not really. A breath freshener, a mending charm used most commonly on clothing, and a rudimentary birth control charm," Hannah responded idly. Harry noticed Luna blushed a bit at the last one before speaking up.

"Cedar and unicorn hair," she said quietly, but her words drew the attention of the Aurors.

"Does that help at all?" Harry asked. Luna nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes, it narrows it down quite a bit," she said as the door to the shop opened. Harry watched a young couple walk in with an eleven year old girl. At least both Aurors assumed that was the age as it looked like they were looking for her first wand. Luna looked torn between helping the customers or the Aurors, but Harry gestured for her to help. She quickly replaced the wand in the case before hurrying to the customers. Harry leaned against the counter as the parents eyed him suspiciously while Luna approached them. He vaguely recognized the family. He thought the father worked in the Department of Games and Sports. He could have spent more time looking at the man, but decided Luna's behind was a much better target.

"When did she get hot?" Hannah asked quietly as Luna went through wand lore with the little girl. She kneeled down by her before taking out a few wands to attempt to find the match.

"She's always been pretty," Harry said. "She was just usually too weird for people to notice. Hell, she even looked pretty when she smiled at me as we rescued her from Malfoy Manor," he admitted, his earlier ruminations helping him to realize that.

"That, Mr. Potter, is a time I would rather not think about," Garrick Ollivander said from behind the desk. Harry stepped away quickly, but Hannah hadn't been caught surprised.

"I think it's a time we'd all rather not think about," Harry admitted. Ollivander nodded. He took a moment to appraise the older man. His condition certainly hadn't improved much in the few years since the end of the war. If anything, it was a little worse. He looked incredibly frail and Harry was surprised he was actually able to stand and move on his own. Then again, he could have been supported by some type of magic, for all he knew, but the Auror didn't sense any.

"You are correct, Mr. Potter. Now, may I ask why two Aurors were soliciting my clerk?"

"We actually came to solicit you, but she said you weren't available," Harry responded dryly. Ollivander wasn't quite as creepy to him anymore. The wand maker helped identify wands rather often, so Harry was accustomed to stopping by to find out information. Of course, it probably helped that he simply looked like a frail old man.

"Wand identification?" Ollivander asked He reached for the encased wand that Luna had left on the counter. It slipped from his hands and fell back to the counter. Harry noticed Luna look up at Ollivander, but quickly went back to helping the customers.

"Please," Hannah said as she took the wand from the case and handed it to the older man. He inspected it carefully, holding it with just the tips of his fingers as he did. Harry had to admit he was rather amazed that the wand maker didn't drop it like he had the case. Instead, the older man looked almost possessive of the piece of enchanted wood.

"eight and three quarter inches, Cedar and unicorn hair. Not particularly powerful. Certainly no holly and phoenix feather, or even willow and chimera mane," Ollivander said with a nod toward Harry and then Hannah. "But it is rather quick. Adaptive." He placed it back carefully into the case and pushed that, with just his fingertips, back toward the Aurors.

"And it belongs to?" Harry asked dryly.

"It is in your possession, Mr. Potter. Or perhaps Miss Abbot's," Ollivander said. He looked up at Harry as if he wasn't sure why the Auror would be asking that question. Harry sighed and had to remind himself that the wand maker wasn't entirely himself anymore. There were just some things that even magic couldn't fix.

"Who did it belong to before we found it," Hannah amended with a smile. Ollivander looked up at her and smiled a bit himself, although he still managed to look confused. But he smiled at Harry's pretty blonde partner, as just about everyone did.

"It belonged to Pansy Parkinson," Ollivander said as if everyone should have known that. Harry nodded and glanced at his partner, who looked a tad paler than she usually did. "You two should may have known her, she was about your age."

"Exactly our age," Hannah said. "Thanks for your help, Mr. Ollivander." She turned and walked out of the shop.

"Yes, anytime, Miss Abbott," Ollivander said dreamily as he walked slowly from behind the desk and toward the customers. Harry took just a moment before he walked toward the door. Before he walked out though he heard Luna speak.

"Wait Harry," she said. He turned and saw her standing behind him. She was blushing and not quite able to look him in the eye. He noticed the parents behind her looked a little bit annoyed that she abandoned them, but their daughter was generating bright pink sparks from the end of one of the wands so they chose to praise her rather than reprimand Luna.

"Yes, Luna?" he responded slowly.

"We uhm, well, if you would like to, we could go to dinner. Or uhm, lunch again. That is if you're not too busy," she let her voice trail off as she spoke, still not looking up at him.

"Uh, sure, Luna. I'm free most Tuesday and Thursday nights. So how about this Thursday?" He smiled. She raised her eyes to him, blushing a bit.

"I work Thursday afternoon," she said meekly, still blushing. They'd done lunch every couple of months since the end of the war, so it didn't surprise him that she defaulted to that.

"So do I," Harry said with a smile. "But I'm going to leave at five, go change, and then take you somewhere."

"Where?" she asked excitedly. He just shrugged.

"Up to you," he smiled. "What time would you like me to pick you up?"

"Around seven?" she asked, almost as if she expected he'd change his mind if she picked the wrong time.

"I'll stop by your place around seven on Thursday, then," he smiled. She beamed at him as he finished. "But now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work." Luna nodded enthusiastically as he turned to exit the shop. Hannah fell into step as soon as he stepped out into the street.

"Hot date with Luna Lovegood, hey?" she asked, teasingly, as she walked next to him toward the alley where they'd apparated to the Parkinson's residence.

"We'll see," he responded dryly. "You always tell me that I need to get out more."

"You do. I'm actually excited for you," she laughed.

"I thought you were trying to hook me up with Greengrass," he responded.

"Not really. I just think you'll have a good time with her. You and Luna have been cute since like fifth year. You should have seen her face when you'd stand behind her in Dumbledore's Army. Red as those radish earrings she wore," Hannah teased more. Harry just shook his head. After a moment she continued. "You know the location of the Parkinson's apparation area?"

"Yea, I grabbed it before we left the office," he answered.

"Good, apparently it's a half a freaking mile away from the residence. Pretentious pricks. See you there," she responded before disappearing with a loud pop. Harry followed her lead.

Harry gasped for air as soon as he appeared on the long path that led up to the Parkinson estate. Hannah was standing a few feet away so she could chide him for looking green once more as he appeared. He shook his head and started walking, rather slowly, up the path toward the large manor. Hannah fell into step beside him. After a few moments she spoke.

"Holly and phoenix feather?" she asked quietly. They'd never discussed wands before. He reached to his side to grab his wand and offered it to her as they walked.

"Yes," was all he said in response as she looked over his wand.

"So this is the wand the defeated Lord Voldemort?" she asked, turning it over carefully in her hands as she spoke. He couldn't help but smile a bit at her saying his name. It had taken some time, but finally most of the Wizarding world wasn't afraid of the name of a dead wizard.

"No, it's not," he admitted. "It was broken at the time. I killed him with hawthorn and unicorn hair."

"Oh. Is that your backup wand then?" Hannah asked. Every Auror carried at least two wands, as there was always the possibility of being disarmed. Ollivander actually offered to make a brother wand for anyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, assuming the materials were available. But that was a service that Harry hadn't required.

"No. It's not. I'd broken my wand well before the battle. I managed to fix it after the battle, but the one I was using then was just one I'd stumbled upon."

"Stumbled upon?" she asked as she turned her gaze to him and handed back his wand. He slipped it back to his side where it rested next to its brother.

"Well, stole from Draco Malfoy," he admitted.

"No shit?" she laughed. "I'm surprised he doesn't go around bragging that it was his wand that ended the Dark Lord's tyranny! That would have probably helped his image at least a little bit."

"Well, I never gave it back. So he'd have had to admit that I took it from him when he was trying to kill me. Not sure how well that would have gone over."

"Valid point," she laughed. "Why didn't you return it?"

"He never asked for it," Harry admitted. "Now it sits in a case in my apartment. Some collectors even offered to buy it."

"Good amount?" she teased, knowing full well that Harry inherited enough money that the amount wouldn't particularly matter if he wished to get rid of it.

"About five years pay," Harry responded. Hannah just whistled.

"So did Ollivander make you a duplicate for a backup? He did for me. Willow and chimera hair." She reached down and held up two completely identical wands. Harry plucked one from her and examined it carefully. It hadn't seen much use so he assumed it was her backup. After a moment he handed it back to her.

"No, he didn't," Harry admitted as they were only a couple of feet from the door.

"Well what's your backup then? I've seen it on your hip enough."

"Yew and phoenix feather," Harry admitted.

"How'd you get it?" she asked as they stepped up to the door.

"Found it after the war," he said as he used the knocker on the door. He thought Hannah would comment further but before she could open her mouth the door opened slowly.

"Welcome to Parkinson Manor, how may I be of assistance!" a high voice squeaked. Harry turned his gaze down to see the large round eyes of a house elf.

"Aurors Harry Potter and Hannah Abbot here to see Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson," Hannah opened.

"Do you have an appointment?" The elf asked politely. The creature's gaze darted between the two Aurors quickly.

"No," Harry responded bluntly.

"My masters do not take solicitation except by appointment," the elf said. It went to close the door but Harry put his foot in the way.

"It's about their daughter," Hannah said calmly. "You can tell them we will not be long."

"Appointment only!" the elf squeaked, looking both frightened and like it wanted to crush Harry's foot in the door.

"Just ask them, please," Hannah smiled. The elf looked at her for a moment and then disappeared back into the house. Harry moved his foot away and let the door close.

"Appointment only?" Harry asked, looking over at his partner.

"They're probably gathering up possessions and apparating to a safe house," Hannah laughed. "Former Death Eaters-"

"Repentant Death Eaters," Harry corrected.

"Right, repentant Death Eaters. Why else would two Aurors show up on their doorstep if not to prove their alibi was complete crap and imprison them?"

"I'd go with 'our jobs' but dragging away alleged dark wizards is what they think our job is," he laughed.

"Hey that's what I signed up for," Hannah laughed.

"Me too," Harry said. "But after Oxford, I think I'd rather stick to this side of it." He winced a bit at the memory of the Death Eaters final stand. He still had nightmares about those nights.

"Well it's certainly nice being able to rest a little soundly," Hannah agreed, shaking her head a bit as the elf opened the door once more.

"They will give you five minutes in the sitting room," it said carefully. "But they have a very busy schedule!"

"Thank you," Hannah said as she stepped into the house. Harry followed her as the elf led her to the sitting room.

When they entered the sitting room Harry saw that both Parkinsons sat on a couch in the middle of the room. There were two chairs across from them. He heard the elf excuse itself almost as soon as it showed them to the room. Hannah stepped up toward the older couple. They were both older and graying. Harry would have guessed they'd had pansy later in life. Mrs. Parkinson was very thin and had long hair and was still fairly attractive. Harry couldn't help but think she'd have been rather impressive thirty years earlier. From what he remembered of Pansy she'd gotten her thin lips from her mother.

Unfortunately, she'd gotten everything else from her father. He wasn't tall. Harry figured he was probably about Hannah's height, and at least a couple inches shorter than himself. He wasn't particularly large either, but he had a strangely round face topped with the pug nose that Harry would always associate with Pansy. Neither of the two looked particularly happy to have two members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in their sitting room.

"Why are you here?" Mr. Parkinson asked, coldly, his arms crossed above his chest. His wife gave him a brief stare before turning her looks to the Aurors.

"Oh come now," his wife scolded. "At least let them sit. Tea?" she gazed up at Hannah, who was smiling. She nodded and took a seat in one of the chairs and accepted a cup of tea. Harry just stood behind the chair and shook his head at the offer of tea.

"None for me, thank you," he said, leaning against the chair.

"Now, to what do we owe this visit?" Mrs. Parkinson asked, doing her best to attempt to sound cheerful. Harry gazed around the room. He'd let Hannah do most of the talking. It usually worked out better that way.

"We just wanted to ask some questions to start, if we could," she said carefully. Harry was surprised she didn't bring up the fact that their daughter was dead immediately, but he let her work, knowing she'd likely get to it soon.

"About what? The elf said you were interested in Pansy? Has she done something?" the mother looked concerned. The father just looked annoyed.

"Well," Hannah said quietly after a moment. She took out the case containing Pansy's wand. "There's never any easy way to put this. This morning my partner and I were called to the scene of a murder. We both could identify the body based on our time in school with her. But we also confirmed it with the wand maker Ollivander this morning. I'm terribly sorry for your loss." She placed the wand on table. Mrs. Parkinson almost dropped her tea. Mr. Parkinson didn't look phased. Harry had to admire his poker face.

"My God," Mrs. Parkinson said. "What happened?"

"We don't have much information at this time. She was found by Muggle police in a Muggle park. We were called into the area by a Squib officer. There was bruising on the neck and excess magic in the body. We do; however, believe she was murdered. Unfortunately we cannot provide more information at this time," Hannah spoke quietly. Harry had to admire how she could simply events so well. Sure, she lied to them, but it made everything seem cleaner.

"Is that all?" Mr. Parkinson said. He showed no emotion as he spoke. "Thank you for your time but if that is all I trust you can show yourself out." Harry struggled to not curse the man. Apathetic parents weren't uncommon in the wizarding world but they still infuriated him.

"Unfortunately it isn't that easy," Hannah said, doing her best to smile. "We still need you to answer some questions."

"First, I will not answer any questions without my attorney present. But second I doubt I could be of any assistance as my daughter has not lived under my roof since shortly after her matriculation. She has, to the best of my knowledge, been living with her fiancé, Mr. Malfoy," Mr. Parkinson said. "Now please leave my home, you have traumatize my wife and I enough for the day." Harry tensed at his words. He was going to argue but Hannah simply stood and nodded.

"Alright. We are sorry for your loss. We will let you know when the examination of the body is finished so you can claim it," she said while turning to Harry and then exiting the room without another word. When they were back outside on the path he finally spoke.

"You let that one go pretty easily," He said.

"We weren't going to get anything out of him anyway," she admitted. "Malfoy's name is probably all we'd get."

"I thought they split up shortly after the war. Wasn't there something about that in one of the papers?" Harry asked knowing full well that Hannah followed the general gossip much closer than he ever considered doing.

"They did and there was," Hannah said. "Still it's the best lead we're about to get."

"Probably. Shall we accost the Malfoy's today then?" Harry asked, but as he did he heard the door of the manor opening behind them. On instinct he turned around to see who it was, one hand sliding toward his wand. But as Mrs. Parkinson stepped out toward them he relaxed.

"Wait, please," She said. Hannah turned as well as they both stopped. "I'm sorry about him. But he and Pansy, well, they argued a lot. And when things didn't pan out with the Malfoy's, well, it all blew up after that."

"How so?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He didn't quite kick her out, but it was close. He told her to not come back until she fixed things with Draco and so she left. Instead she got an apartment and lived there. They hadn't spoken much since," Mrs. Parkinson explained.

"I see," Hannah said. "Do you happen to know where that apartment is?"

"I'm sorry, I don't," Mrs. Parkinson responded. "She did not speak to me much either. One of her friends might know."

"Can you be more specific?" Harry asked.

"I would guess Tracey or Millicent," Mrs. Parkinson said. "Draco may know, too."

"Thank you," Hannah said after a moment. "Your information is helpful."

"I'm sorry I don't know more," Mrs. Parkinson responded. "You will find whoever did this, won't you?"

"We'll certainly try," Hannah said.

"You two have gathered quite the reputation in the papers," Mrs. Parkinson said. "I just hope that you can find whoever was responsible."

"We'll do what we can," Harry affirmed Hannah's last statement. "But a case like this, with very little evidence, it can be very difficult to come up with anything."

"I see," Mrs. Parkinson sobered at the news. Harry knew he was always too blunt with people. But he was a terrible liar. "Well if anyone can, I suspect it is you too. Please find her killer." She stared at the two Aurors, tears forming in her eyes.

"We will," Hannah said. Harry winced at the thought of making such a promise, but knew that Hannah was just appeasing the older woman who gave them a quick nod as the tears fell down her cheeks before she turned to move quickly back to the house. The Aurors watched her move before continuing down the path to the point where they could apparated away from the home. They didn't speak about the older woman's words.

"So, Malfoy Manor?" Harry asked.

"Hell no," Hannah said. "I'm too exhausted to accost a Malfoy now. " She stifled a yawn as she finished speaking.

"Me too," Harry admitted with a yawn of his own, which just caused Hannah to swat him as she yawned again.

"Well then I'm going to go see what the Muggle pathologist figured out. You should go nap and get dressed up for your date," she said.

"Can I just nap and wake up in the morning?" Harry asked.

"No," Hannah replied. "And you're going to have fun. So deal with it. And if you floo me at four in the morning again tomorrow I'm going to kill you. Now enjoy your night!" She teased as she popped away. Harry shook his head and laughed quietly under his breath before turning his thoughts to his own bed and appearing in his apartment just a moment later.

Author's Note: I'm not a fan of the shorter chapters. But am going to try to keep with them through the duration of the story. I may experiment with longer scenes and then scenes that are entire chapters as I go. But I'm much more at home sitting down and writing a 10-12k word chapter than the 4500 I'm shooting for here. We'll see.

This chapter didn't turn out at all like I was hoping and I'm not particularly happy with it. But after spending the better part of two months on it I decided to just go with what I had and move on with the story, knowing full well that if I didn't, this story would never advance past the third chapter.

As always the best way to contact me is typically by private message. I try to respond to everything sent to me. Thank you for the reviews and continued support, I appreciate all of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit. Also there's no beta so any mistakes are my own.

Chapter 4

Harry paused in the entryway of his apartment, shaking his head and waiting for the room to stop spinning. It only took a moment. He walked down the entry hall and into the kitchen. His central London apartment wasn't overly large, but it had enough room for what he needed. There were two furnished bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a living area. It wasn't cheap, but he had money from both his parents and Sirius. Of course, it didn't hurt that Aurors were compensated fairly well.

Once inside he took a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it slowly, taking a moment to stare out over the city. It was still raining at his apartment, but it wasn't much more than a drizzle. He could see the sun trying to peek its way out from behind the clouds. He hadn't bothered to read the weather report in the morning paper so he had no idea if it would clear it. But he doubted it would.

Harry wandered back over to his fridge and peered inside. There wasn't anything particularly appetizing in the small appliance so he just groaned and shook his head, thinking that he should have had a larger breakfast, despite knowing full well that he'd likely be hungry anyway.

Once he'd decided that his search of the refrigerator was useless he scanned through his cabinets. There wasn't much junk food around. He'd never really developed a taste for it after living with Dudley. But he did notice half of a Honeydukes candy bar he'd never finished. He took it out of the cabinet and unwrapped the foil slowly. He took a bite of it and walked over to the table near the window he typically left open. A copy of the morning paper and a couple of letters rested on his kitchen table.

Harry gathered them up, folding the paper over the letters and tucking them next to his candy bar as he took another swig of water. He wandered into the living room and tossed himself down on the couch, stretching as much as he could. It felt nice after spending most of the day on his feet. He flipped the paper open to the sports and started to look at the quidditch box scores from the night before.

Ginny had an impressive night for the Harpies, but it came in a loss. Unfortunately for Ginny, Justin Williams of the Ballycastle Bats had an even better night. And Maxime Broussard caught the snitch, making the final 430-140 Ballycastle.

Harry couldn't help but smirk a little bit at that. More out of relief than anything. Ginny was always in a right foul mood whenever she'd just lost. It had been rather irritating when he'd attend the games, and then she'd just complain about every detail of them after. But, at the very least, he wouldn't have to deal with that again.

Ginny was already developing a bit of a reputation in the leagues too as being a bit of a Primma Donna. She'd lose it during games when things didn't go her way. There was a big deal news story a few weeks back when she'd been ejected for arguing with a referee. Apologists simply said she was fiery and determined to win. Critics said she was a hot head and likely to cost her team nearly as much as she helped.

Harry thought she was probably closer to a mix of both. But he didn't particularly feel like analyzing her anymore. He read the game notes and couldn't help but laugh a little bit at some comments made by Titus Button, the captain of the Bats, after the game.

The Beater, who Harry suspected was likely sick of hearing about how good the Harpies were, said some rather derogatory things about the Harpies highly vaunted scoring line. Again, he was rather thankful that he wouldn't have to hear Ginny raving about that as well.

He scanned a few other box scores. His eyes lingering a bit on the Tornadoes against the Catapults. Felicity Hillard, his summer fling that Hannah had set him up with hadn't played particularly well in the loss. But the Tornadoes really just weren't off to a great start. And frankly, weren't that great of a team.

He read an article about trade rumors that were starting to heat up as he finished his bottle of water. He took a moment to gaze at the two letters he'd received. Neither looked particularly important, likely they were both some type of organization asking if he'd speak at an event. He got that a lot. Dark Magic awareness programs began sprouting up shortly after the war. It was a Muggle-born idea that caught on very quickly.

Once he finished with that he felt tired enough to doze off. But he knew falling asleep on the couch wouldn't benefit him much. So instead he stood and moved into his bedroom, leaving the paper, letters, and the empty bottle of water on the table next to the couch.

Harry changed as soon as he entered his bedroom. He debated showering, but knew he'd do that before his date anyway, so instead he simply put on his pajamas and climbed right into bed.

He quickly set the Muggle alarm clock next to his bed before resting back on the pillows, pulling one of the blankets up over his body, closing his eyes and relaxing into his bed. Some wizards used their wands as a form of alarm clock, but Harry found he reacted better to the computerized buzz of the Muggle device than the buzzing of his wand.

Still, Harry Potter did just about everything possible to not think about his case as he closed his eyes. Despite how tired he was, he knew that thinking about the corpse of Pansy Parkinson wouldn't do him any good.

He rolled onto his side, grabbing a loose blanket and tossing it over his shoulder. Harry decided it was best to think about female companionship than anything else. And so he fell asleep debating just who would be better to fall asleep with, Luna or Daphne.

Hannah Abbot stopped for lunch. She wasn't particularly hungry, but grabbing a sandwich was an efficient way of killing time. She sat on a bench and stared around the park where they'd started their day. Hannah didn't expect to find anything unusual, but it helped her think.

When she finished her small sandwich she paced through the park, wandering down every path and over most grassy areas. The crime scene itself had been completely cleaned up now. There wasn't even a police presence in the vicinity anymore.

It only took two, very slow, turns around the park for her to decide that there really was absolutely nothing for her to find. She couldn't even sense any residual traces of magic. But Harry would probably come back at some point to try that out. He'd always been considerably better at finding old magic than she was.

Really, she suspected he was just more attuned to magic in general. Hannah didn't know how he did it, but somehow Harry always knew exactly what spell to use in every situation. And on top of that, he rarely spent any time thinking about it. There were many situations in which she'd be, for lack of a better term, freaking out, while trying to figure out their best way out of their predicament, and Harry would have already solved their problem.

She remembered that day in Oxford. A day she'd rather forget. She'd watched Auror after Auror fall. Including her own partner. She was only a few feet away from him when the curse hit him. He'd exploded all over the building. She'd just hid. Knowing that her life was essentially forfeit, and knowing that there was only a matter of time. She cried, leaning against a broken down stone wall, knowing the dark wizards were just on the other side.

She cursed herself for thinking she had what it took to be an Auror. She cursed the Aurors for sending such fresh witches and wizards into such a battle. And she hated Harry Potter, for everything. For being such an inspiration, for never kneeling to the darkness, and for being the bastion of the light she wished she could be.

She'd just tightened her hold on her wand and waited. Tears clouded her vision as she picked spells out of her head, deciding on an order in which to cast them. But jets of red light shot over her head and before she could even register another thought he was next to her, leaning against the same wall.

"Are you hit?" Harry Potter had asked. He looked as dirty as she felt. Blood stained his face and body armor. His department badge was nowhere to be seen. She just shook her head a bit, her eyes were wide and she knew she couldn't lie to him. He was still fighting, she had no reason to not still be fighting as well.

"Good," he said a moment later, popping himself up and firing spells off at targets Hannah didn't want to face. "Let's go then," he pulled her up with his free hand and flipped over the destroyed wall she was hiding against. Hannah had done all she could. She rolled over the wall and followed him, firing spells at anything that moved. And she'd followed Harry Potter ever since.

Hannah gazed around the park and smiled. She still had nightmares about that battle, and she was sure Harry did too. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised her if every living Auror didn't have some scar, whether physical or emotional, from their time in Oxford. They'd won, though, and in the end that was all that mattered.

She had far more pleasant memories of the days that followed the battle, but now was not the time to delve into them. She instead left the park, not particularly bothered that she hadn't found a single clue, or a single trace of magic. In her mind, that simply meant the park was likely a drop zone for the body.

They'd both assumed that, as they hadn't sensed any residual magic in the air on their first visit. But it never hurt to have a second look. Sometimes the trace of an apparation would be almost impossible to sense. Or covered simply by having magical people in the area. But there was no lingering presence at all. Hannah knew there wasn't much more she'd be able to do past explore the surrounding areas. But that would be on tomorrow's agenda.

She arrived at her original destination a few moments later. A smile and a quick flash of her credentials got her past the officers on duty. She descended into the basement and found the pathologist sitting at her desk sipping some coffee.

"Inspector Abbott," the older woman said, eyeing her carefully. "How are you doing today?"

"Same as ever, is the coffee fresh?" Hannah asked, her eyes drifting over to the coffee pot in the corner of the room.

"About a half hour old," the pathologist responded.

"Do you mind?" Hannah asked.

"Not at all."

"Thanks Dr. Michaels," Hannah responded. The older woman nodded as Hannah walked over and filled a cup with the brown liquid. She'd have preferred tea, but sometimes it was simply easier to have coffee. She took a sip before making a face and adding some artificial sweetener.

"Why have you decided to visit me, Inspector?" Dr. Michaels asked after a moment. Hannah just smiled a little bit.

"Were you done with your report on the Jane Doe from this morning?"

"Yes, just finished it up a few moments ago. One of your cases?" She raised an eyebrow as she asked the question. Hannah just nodded.

"Yea, Harry and I found the body," she lied. She wasn't overly concerned with letting too much slip as she'd have an Obliviator crew here shortly after she left. It was standard practice with non squibs. They'd used Dr. Michaels before. She was well thought of in her field.

"Well, it's a strange case. Here let's take a look," she stood, leaving her own coffee on the desk. Hannah placed hers down as well and followed Dr. Michaels to the body. Hannah looked down at it for a moment, before taking the paper file the pathologist handed to her. She started to page through it.

"What was so strange about it?" Hannah asked. "We assumed it was death by strangulation. Probably beaten, raped and then killed." Somewhere deep down it bothered her she could be so cold about such things. But it came with the job.

"Well she wasn't raped, for one. She'd had sex recently, yes, but I'm pretty sure it was consensual. And there certainly is bruising and damage around the neck. But it isn't that severe. At least not enough to be the cause of death," Dr. Michaels explained. "And if you look, there's plenty of bruising on the body. But none of it quite as fresh as the neck."

"I see," Hannah said. "Well do we have a cause of death?"

"No," Dr. Michaels said. "I was with you when I first saw it. I just assumed strangulation, but it's just not severe enough."

"Well where'd you go from there?" Hannah asked.

"I explored the other bruising. But again, nothing was severe enough to have killed her. Although I will say she is pretty beat up. Still, no broken bones. Her internals are all fine, too. Well, except that they're not functioning anymore."

"Very strange," Hannah said, paging through the paperwork and looking back at Pansy's corpse. "So what then, these?" she asked, gesturing to the small dots on Pansy's arms.

"Well I'm not ruling out some type of overdose. I haven't received the blood work back yet but I'd expect to find at least some heroin in her system. A few of the punctures look considerably fresher. But still, she doesn't have most the signs of overdose.

"So you really have no solid idea on the cause of death?" Hannah asked.

"No. I don't," Dr. Michaels said. "I'd assume it has to be some pre-existing condition, or perhaps some circumstances triggered a variety of reactions. Maybe the heroin just stopped he heart. We'll have standard blood and DNA information in a couple of days. We're also trying to match some dental records to see if we can identify her."

"I see," Hannah said. "So we could be looking at murder, overdose, or perhaps just a strange combination of medication or something?"

"Essentially, yes, it's like she just stopped working. I haven't seen anything like it. Perhaps if we identify her and I can get some medical records I could help more," Dr. Michaels said. Hannah just nodded. She turned back to the corpse and stared at it for a few moments.

"If we come up with anything we'll let you know," she paused for a moment. "And if you do, return the favor please. Thanks for all your help, Dr. Michaels," Hannah said. She wandered back into the office to pick up her coffee and worked her way out of the building.

Whoever had perpetrated the crime had done so rather well. If not for the wand and the note Hannah probably wouldn't have assumed it was a murder. Still, it bothered her that they hadn't sensed any magic in the body, if there wasn't an apparent cause of death it had to be magic. Yet the only spell Hannah could think of that would simply kill someone certainly left a trace. A very large trace. And one that Harry was better than anyone at sensing. He would have known immediately, he always did.

She shook her head as she stepped back out into the early afternoon light. Her head was getting fuzzy and she was too tired to clearly think. She felt a bit bad turning in for the day so early, but at least she'd lasted longer than Harry.

Hannah ducked into an alley and apparated back to the department. But her time there was short, just enough to tell some obliviators to get to Dr. Michaels and wipe her memory of the events as well as transport the body for a more thorough magical inspection. Part of her knew they should have done that in the first place, but it had looked so simple in the early morning hours. Before Dawlish handed them her wand.

Eventually she decided to just go home. And she hoped that Harry had a much more entertaining night than she had afternoon.

Harry was only mildly annoyed when the alarm buzzing woke him up. He opened his eyes and groaned a little bit. His head was fuzzy and he really just wanted to go back to sleep. He knew, though, that if he went back to sleep he'd just wind up awake late at night with a pounding headache. And that would just make work in the morning completely and utterly fantastic.

So instead he rose out of bed and moved into his bathroom for his second shower of the day. In fairness, the one before work in the morning hadn't been much more than stepping into the water for a few moments to wake up. Still he didn't take much more time with his second shower of the day.

After he toweled off, brushed his teeth, attempted to comb his hair, but gave up after a few moments, and wandered back toward his bedroom to get dressed. The locale where he was supposed to meet Daphne wasn't particularly fancy, so he picked out a pair of dark jeans and pulled them on. He spent a moment peering through his shirts before his gaze turned out a bedroom window.

The rain had stopped. He vaguely remembered thinking it was letting up as he arrived home, and it appeared to be turning into a fairly nice evening. He opened the window to gauge the temperature, taking a moment to let the breeze fill into his bedroom. It was chilly, but not too bad. Perhaps a bit cold for late summer in London.

He walked back to his closet and settled on a long-sleeved button up shirt. It was mostly light green, but there was some white, yellow and a darker green worked into the design. He pulled it on slowly and buttoned it up with a slight yawn. He glanced at the window but decided to keep it open. A little breeze never really hurt.

Harry walked from his bedroom back to his kitchen. He gazed at the clock for a moment. He had a half hour before he'd agreed to meet Miss Greengrass, and knew he could apparate to the Leaky Cauldron and walk to the restaurant in less than five minutes. But he was slightly bored and didn't feel like sitting around his apartment for much longer. So he grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge and left his building.

It had turned out to be a rather nice evening. The sun was slowly making its descent on the horizon, but it would last a few more hours still. And the breeze was nearly non-existent on the streets, making it feel warmer than it had in his room.

Harry opened the bottle of water as he walked and sipped it as he moved through the relatively empty streets. He weaved in and out of some tourists, doing his best to not step directly in front of the pictures they took. He made relatively good time working his way through the city streets. But he hadn't ever been particularly good at walking slowly.

He debated stopping into a store or two just to kill some time, but he figured he'd probably wind up late if he did, and he thought it would be rude to wind up late for his date, if it was a date. He finished his bottle of water about the same time he walked past the Leaky Cauldron. He tossed the bottle into a nearby garbage can as he stepped past and turned the corner toward the restaurant Daphne picked.

When he arrived he scanned the outdoor seating to see if she'd picked out a table. He didn't see her so he ducked inside. It was a small little French restaurant. There was a long booth against the far wall of the restaurant, with a long table in front of it and chair opposite. The restaurant was about half-full and there were bits of quiet conversation permeating the small building. The place was setup mostly for groups of two, but there were some tables of four. Harry smiled at the hostess as he gazed around, but still saw no sign of Daphne. So he wandered over toward the bar.

It was small, with only six stools, tucked away in the corner of the restaurant. A young couple sat at the far end, staring at the wine list. Harry sat on the opposite side of them and paged through a drink menu someone had left on the bar. He debated between beers and mixed drinks, but when the bartender finally took his order he'd decided on a French cider.

The bartender brought it quickly and poured it into a special glass, making a bit more of a show of it than Harry felt it deserved. It was very crisp, dry, and wonderfully refreshing. He picked up the bottle as the bartender wandered away and examined it for a few moments. He placed it down and tilted his stool so he was could see the door of the restaurant.

A few couples entered, looking smiley and happy as they did. They followed the hostess to a table shortly after entering. After a few more moments he turned back to face the bar, letting his eyes shift along the alcohol behind it. He picked up a nearby wine list and paged through it to pass the time. At least until Daphne spoke from behind him.

"Hey, Potter," she said, sliding into the stool next to him. She plucked the list out of his hand as he turned to face her.

"Miss Greengrass," he responded politely. She looked a bit worn out, wearing tight black jeans and a white blouse. She had slight bags under her eyes and looked like perhaps she'd been crying. Harry didn't want to comment.

"Can I get you something, miss?" The bartender asked a few moments after Daphne sat down.

"A glass of that Vouvray please," Daphne said, pointing to it on the menu. The bartender nodded and grabbed white wine glass from underneath the bar and placed it on a napkin in front of her. She then went to get the bottle and filled the glass. Daphne reached out hesitantly and plucked the glass up by the stem, sipping it carefully. Harry took the opportunity to take a sip of his cider before speaking.

"We can get a table if you like," he said. Daphne shook her head.

"No, let's just eat at the bar," she responded. Harry nodded. The bartender seemed to have heard them as she returned with a couple of menus a moment later. Harry lifted the paper menu up and gazed over at it. He noticed that Daphne was more focused on her wine, staring at it and looking slightly lost.

"Are you okay, Daphne?" he asked after a moment. She'd always seemed more lively than this at the office. It was probably the wrong thing to say. She just turned her stool to face him, her hazel eyes locking onto his.

"Why didn't you tell me this morning?" she asked. Harry blinked a bit, unsure of what she could have been asking. But it didn't take very long for it to hit him. Daphne always had hung around with Pansy and Tracy while at school.

"It hadn't, even occurred to me," Harry said. Daphne frowned and looked away, sipping her wine.

"I knew that wand Hannah was examining looked familiar," she said. "Took me half the day to place it."

"I'm sorry," Harry responded dumbly.

"Broke down right there in the office when I figured it out," she spoke quietly. Harry just listened, not sure of what else he could do. "Had to go home early. Almost canceled on you." She took a rather large drink of her wine.

"I'm, uh, glad you didn't," Harry said softly. "You, uh, look nice?" She put her wine glass down and started laughing.

"I look like shit, Potter," she said. Finally decided that scrubbing my face wasn't making it look any better and just threw on some crap and came to join you." He was rather happy to at least see her smile, even if it was at the expense of a stupid comment from him. In his experience it was best to not dwell on such things. It's what helped him in his profession. He'd rather not think about all the deaths and injuries he'd seen in his time.

"Well, uhm, I like your hair?" he said carefully. She had it down, she shook her head again.

"It's greasy and disgusting and I should probably put it in a pony-tail," she laughed.

"Now you're just being difficult," he commented as she finished her wine. He polished off his cider.

"Well my hair doesn't look good, so. You, though, look quite nice," she said, but then changed the subject. "Want to split a flatbread? The one with the tomato and basil sounds good."

"Sure," Harry smiled. He wasn't particularly picky about food, and figured whatever they ordered would probably be pretty good. The bartender stepped back over to them.

"Another round?" she asked, looking at both of them. Daphne nodded.

"How about just bringing us a bottle of that?" he asked. Daphne smiled at him as the bartender complied, getting Harry a glass. They ordered when she returned, splitting the flatbread as an appetizer. Harry ordered a roasted chicken dish, Daphne ordered a whitefish special. They chatted idly about nothing in particular, Harry doing everything in his power to keep the topic off of dead classmates.

"Thanks for getting Burick, by the way," he said as they worked on their entrees.

"Thanks for buying dinner," she responded. "But it's my job, you know."

"Yea, but like my job that doesn't mean it always works out," he said. Of course, Harry wouldn't argue he was infallible, but they didn't arrest people on whims. He was always certain he'd gotten the right guy. But the law wasn't always in their favor. Or perhaps the nuances of the law and the defending attorneys would be more accurate.

"Hate it when it doesn't. Burick was a sick man, though. I'm not sure Nott would have been able to get him off anyway," Daphne said. Harry tilted his head to the side at her comments. She said Nott similarly to how she said Potter, but with a bit more venom in her voice.

"Me too," he admitted. "Good choice on restaurant by the way, it's delicious."

"Thanks, I come here for lunch a couple of times a month," she said.

"Bet that's delicious."

"It is, dessert?"

"Up to you."

"We'll, let's split something," she said, before asking for the menu from the bartender. Harry took the time to just sip his wine and look at her. Her cheeks were flushed red, she'd drank far more of the wine than he said. But she wasn't slurring her speech or anything yet.

"Alright, you pick," he said. She nodded and ordered some sort of warm mixed berry tart. She only actually had a couple of bites of it, electing instead to finish the bottle of wine as her dessert. Harry had absolutely no problem eating the rest of it. The bartender returned to ask if they'd like coffee. Daphne decided some calvados was a better option. Harry didn't have a valid argument against it and sipped his with a smile on his face.

When they'd finally had enough Harry paid and they stood to leave. Daphne wobbled a bit but he caught her, feeling a tad fuzzy himself.

"Woah," she said quietly as she stood there. "I should have eaten more."

"Me too," Harry laughed. But they managed to make it out of the restaurant without incident.

"Walk me home?" Daphne asked. "I'm too drunk to apparate."

"Me too, probably," Harry admitted. "Which way?" Daphne looked around and then just started walking. He walked with her. They moved slowly, sliding between other pedestrians when the situation arose. They walked past some closed shops, other restaurants, and even a dance club. Daphne stopped outside the club and looked at it.

"Pansy loved that club," she sniffed. Harry blinked a bit and slid an arm around her, sensing what was coming. "She said they had the best music and the cutest boys…" Daphne's voice trailed off as he hugged her. He let her cry for a few moments, in the middle of the street, before he spoke up. "You're going to get the bastard, aren't you?"

"We don't know if she was murdered," Harry said quietly. He'd found it was best to just claim ignorance with most things involved in a case until he was absolutely sure.

"Pansy wouldn't kill herself," she said between quiet sobs. "She liked to go out and party too much. She loved it. She was finally doing well too, finally happy," Daphne said. Harry didn't know what to say to that. After a moment she continued. "So find the bastard. If anyone can it would be you." He still just stood, silently. Letting her cry. After a moment he spoke up.

"Let's get you home," he said softly. She nodded a bit and let him walk her home, sniffling as they moved. She lived on the first floor of a townhouse a few streets down. She walked up to the door and dug her key out of her purse before nearly falling inside. Harry followed her to make sure she was okay.

The inside was lightly furnished and slightly messy and somewhat chilly. If Harry had to guess she probably spent the most time at the stools in the kitchen by a small television she had mounted on the wall. He was rather surprised that her apartment was so modern, given that she was a pureblood, but he didn't comment. She needed to do the dishes too, but Harry couldn't really comment on that as if he hadn't had Kreacher he'd probably never have clean anything.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked. She looked up at him, her face stained a bit by tears, her nose rather red.

"Are you prepositioning me?" she asked.

"Not yet," Harry responded, causing her to giggle just a little bit. "Just making sure you're alright before I leave."

"Can we watch a movie or something instead?" she asked. Her eyes focusing on him for just a moment. "I don't really want to be alone. I'll probably just cry more. I know I already pretty much ruined the night."

"Sure," He smiled. "Just pick one out. And I actually had a pretty good time, all things considered. We should try this again on a better day."

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to go change first. Get me a glass of water while I do." He just nodded as she stepped off toward the bedroom. It took him a few minutes to find some glasses and pour some water, but he succeeded. Daphne emerged from her bedroom a moment later with a blanket wrapped around her. She gestured for Harry to sit on the couch and joined him there, sitting next to him and offering him part of the blanket.

"Sorry but my apartment is always freezing at night," she lamented. He just nodded a bit as she tossed it over him. She stood and moved toward the television and picked out a movie. She wore shorts and a tank top and Harry rather liked the view. She selected some sort of romantic comedy about a sports agent. Harry watched silently as Daphne sat very close to him. She fell asleep about fifteen minutes in, her head resting on his shoulder.

Harry knew he wouldn't last the entire movie. And he knew he should probably carry her to the bedroom and let her sleep, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't stop thinking of Daphne's words about her friend. She'd been happy. She liked to party. There were possible signs of drug use. She loved a nightclub. He'd take Hannah back to the park tomorrow, to see if there were clubs nearby. Perhaps it was a simple case of a chance encounter gone wrong. But that didn't explain the wand and letter showing up at Dawlish's home.

He almost did stay awake the entire movie, pondering the case, but eventually he drifted off, hundreds of possible scenarios going through his head as it tilted to rest on Daphne's on the couch. At the very least, he had an idea of where to start tomorrow.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I appreciate it. I respond to pretty much anything PM'd to me so that's the best way to contact me. Please check out my other new story 'The Masque of Chicago' if you need a romance fic. I assure you, it's good. I'm going to spend my time alternating between this, PBP and Masque until one of them gets to a point where I rather write it than the rest.

Also I'm intrigued by this new image manager thing and how apparently I can put like covers on stories now. I'll be honest, I haven't really looked into it that much. But I'd be interested in reader-submitted covers for any of my stories. And possibly willing to compensate for them. Thanks again for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making nothing that even remotely resembles a profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 5

The whistle of a tea kettle woke him. His back and neck were both stiff. But that wasn't surprising, considering he'd spent the night on a couch. He sat up and looked around the small house. It took him a moment to remember just where he'd spent the night.

There wasn't any sign of Daphne, except for the blanket she'd brought out the night before. That rested gently across his body. He shrugged it off and stood up. He felt far more exhausted than he should have. But he just attributed that to too much alcohol and too little sleep. Again, he was reasonably certain that he could blame the couch for that once more.

Eventually he decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to just let the tea kettle go off constantly, so with a yawn and a flick of his wand he turned off the stove.

Harry took a moment to toss the blanket off of his body and then stretch his arms over his head. He fought off a yawn before finally rising from the couch. He took a moment to gaze around the apartment. It seemed a bit larger than he remembered. It was a bit of an unorganized mess, too, but he wasn't going to comment.

It only took him a few steps to get into the kitchen. He grabbed two tea cups out of the sink and cleaned them with a quick spell. Part of him debated cleaning the rest of the dishes that Miss Greengrass had been too lazy to do. But the required flick of his wand seemed like something that would be a better thing to do after having some morning caffeine.

So he made himself a quick cup of black tea. After a few moments he sipped it and looked around. There still wasn't really a sign of Daphne, and he felt a little odd about being in her home in the morning. But he figured a few minutes could hurt.

At least he still had some time before his morning rendezvous with Hannah.

Harry took a seat on one of the stools at Daphne's dining bar and sipped the tea. He didn't have to wait long. Daphne emerged from the bedroom, her hair done up in a tight bun. She wore a very formal, oddly familiar black outfit that made Harry wonder if every female attorney shopped in the same store.

"You're still here?" she said, sounding mildly surprised, as Harry simply sipped his tea.

"Seemed odd to just leave," he said.

"And you're helping yourself to my tea?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry couldn't tell if she was teasing him or actually annoyed.

"Yes," he said quietly. She just shook her head and walked around the bar.

"Good thing I put plenty of water into the kettle," she commented as she poured herself a cup.

"Quite," he said quietly. Typically he wasn't a fan of one word responses. But he felt like he should play things close to the chest here. He wasn't really sure how he felt about the attorney yet.

"Wordy, aren't you?" she sighed. After taking a sip of her tea she continued the conversation. "How was the couch?"

"My back hurts," Harry admitted.

"There's spells for that," Daphne said pointedly.

"It is unwise to become addicted to pain reducing magic," Harry said, quoting from early Auror lessons.

"Sounds terrible," Daphne frowned. Harry just shrugged and changed the subject.

"How was the couch for you," he tried to tease. But he suspected it didn't come out quite like he wanted.

"I slept in my own bed," she laughed. "Woke up at like two and ditched you."

"Nice of you," Harry smiled. At least one of them had comfortable night of sleep.

"I thought so," she said. "What time do you have to be in to work?"

"I don't," Harry said.

"Off today?" she asked.

"No. Hannah and I just don't go into the office every day."

"You can get away with that?" Daphne asked, looking a little startled. Most Aurors did report in daily. But Harry hated sitting around the office, and Hannah always seemed to like tweaking with protocol.

"Only when we're on a case," Harry admitted. He hadn't really wanted to bring Pansy up. And judging from her slight frown it was still something best avoided.

"I see," she said.

"If we're not," he continued, "Then we typically report in and see what's going on, where we can help, and things like that."

"So when you're not on a case it's absurdly boring?" she asked.

"No," Harry laughed. He finished his tea and cleaned the cup before putting it away. Daphne watched curiously. It only took him three attempts to find the right cabinet. "We find something to do. There's always something to do. An Auror should never be idle."

"That's a relatively new theory, I take it?" Daphne asked.

"Fairly," he admitted. "But there's always something to do, someone to help, or something to investigate. Hannah and I tend to respond to more inquiries than most Aurors."

"I've heard that," Daphne said. "Very noble of you."

"It's worked out," Harry shrugged. He didn't considering doing his job as noble. The way he saw it, if the department had been much more active for most of Harry's young life, he'd have had a much easier time.

"Well keep sending me people to send to Azkaban," she joked. Then frowned and shook her head. "And make the bastard that killed my friend next."

"If it was a murder," Harry sighed. "I will do my best."

"I know," she said. And they were quiet for a few moments. She put her tea back onto the counter and started walking toward the door. "But I'm going to work now. And you probably have work to get to."

"I do," Harry admitted. And he walked with her to the door.

"So what do you do in the morning if you don't go to the office?" she asked. "And are my taxes paying for it?"

"Hannah and I usually meet somewhere for breakfast and review whatever we're working on. And yes, probably," Harry commented. It wasn't the first time he'd had a friend make a joke along those lines, and he was fairly sure it wouldn't be the last.

"Figures," she scoffed.

"Aren't you technically a ministry employee, too," he asked.

"Shush," she responded. He just shook his head. But remained silent for a few moments.

"Any reason you don't just apparate or floo to work?" he asked. Although he suspected it had something to do with the new limitation policies on magical travel.

"Because they don't let us?" she said. Her tone didn't quite make it a question, but it did make him feel like an idiot for asking.

"They still let us," he said. She blinked and looked at him.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes. The Auror office has its own floo. And we're allowed to apparate directly to our desks if we like," Harry explained. He always thought the alternate entrances to the ministry were more for monitoring purposes, or for bringing guests or those underage.

"That's bullshit," Daphne scoffed. "They gave us a speech about how important it is to monitor everyone entering and leaving the political buildings!"

"Well it probably is a good idea for them to know who's inside the ministry at what time," Harry admitted. It certainly would help narrow suspects on any crime committed inside the building. Not that one had been during his career.

"Excluding the law enforcement personnel?" Daphne scoffed.

"Apparently," Harry smirked. "In fairness, we do come and go far more than the rest of you."

"I'm sure it doesn't take you twenty minutes to check out for lunch," she sighed.

"It sure doesn't. Granted I'm not typically in the office later than ten," Harry laughed.

"You two just don't work do you," Daphne teased. Harry just shrugged.

"More than you'd expect," Harry said quietly. He didn't like the notion that he didn't work. It was almost as annoying as the notion that he was somehow beholden to people because they assumed their taxed coins went directly into his pocket. It was even more annoying when it came from other ministry officials.

"Well you have a good enough track record," Daphne sighed. They were approaching the nearest entrance to the ministry. Harry didn't plan on heading to the office, but the least he could do was drop her off.

"And if I wasn't working, you'd have considerably less work to do," he commented dryly.

"Good point," she responded. "Could you do me a favor and take like two weeks off so I can catch up with some paperwork then?"

"No," Harry answered sternly. But the corner of his mouth curled up at her comment.

"I figured," she said as they stepped up toward the ministry entrance. Harry vaguely recognized most of the people that approached the small building. A few of them looked surprised to see the two of them out in the morning.

"And you should be caught up on your paperwork. It's silly to fall too far behind on that," Harry commented.

"Because everyone else doesn't already lecture me on that." Daphne rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Just saying," Harry said. "Aurors need to complete theirs immediately or there's no change. We're required to report it accurately. I can't imagine law is much different."

"It's not," Daphne admitted. "But there's ways around that. You can always watch the memories again."

"And take up twice the time?" Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see much reason in procrastinating on paperwork simply to make it take twice as long later."

"Well it works for me," Daphne scoffed.

"If you insist. Enjoy your day at the office," he said as she approached the portal from the small building to the ministry.

"Thanks," she responded. Then she just stood there for a moment, pressing her lips together and looking confused. Eventually she spoke again. "I'm sorry about last night. I wasn't at my best."

"It happens," Harry smiled, brushing off the previous evening. It hadn't been that terrible, really, but he figured she wouldn't take kindly to him continually commenting that he'd actually enjoyed himself.

"I guess," she said.

"If it makes you feel better, we can say I still owe you dinner for winning that case."

"I'll take you up on that," she said. "You said you're typically out of the office before ten?"

"Usually," Harry admitted. "It varies based on whatever Hannah and I are working on."

"Well, I'll just have to make sure to stop by before that when I decide I want a free meal."

"Works for me," he said as she stepped through to the ministry. Harry just walked back outside into the crisp morning air. He yawned and tried to shake out his neck. It was still sore from the couch. But he knew he'd get over that. So he just walked toward his usual morning hangout, glad that his date from the previous night seemed to be doing better.

He just apparated straight out of the building. He probably shouldn't have. But it was an entirely magical building. And it was just people on their morning commute to the ministry. If he got chastised for it, he'd just shrug it off. Shrugging it off worked surprisingly well for him in situations like that. It was one of the benefits of being Harry Potter.

He apparated straight into the entryway of _Cauldrons and Eggs_. It was Hannah's favorite morning stop and they met up there typically four to five times a week.

"Good morning mister Potter!" the young, blonde, hostess said with far too much cheer. Harry could forgive her for that, though, as she had an excellent smile.

"Good morning, Anna," he responded quietly. The hostess was probably freshly eighteen. If that. He knew she was the daughter of the owners.

"Your partner is at your usual booth," she smiled. The family typically kept the final booth in the back corner open for the two Aurors. It was the quietest point of the restaurant and they appreciated having space to talk and look over notes.

"Thank you, Anna," he smiled back and simply walked through the restaurant. Hannah was peering over some notes as he approached. A cup of tea rested on the table, not too far from her hand. She was dressed in a simple blouse and some blue jeans. The outfit indicated to Harry that she suspected to spend the day in the Muggle world, so they were probably on the same page with where to go next in the case.

"Good morning, Abbott," he said as he slid into the booth. She leaned back, away from the paper she was looking over.

"Potter," she responded. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned a little before taking a sip of her tea.

"You order yet?" he asked, leaning back against the booth. He rolled his neck around just a little bit. He figured it would be normal after a few more minutes, so he didn't bother casting a spell on it. At the very least it would be a reminder of why to not sleep on the couch.

"No, figured you'd show up eventually," she commented. She put her pen down her pen, a slender red Waterman he'd bought her a few years back as a birthday gift and looked across the booth at him.

"How long have you been waiting?" he laughed and checked his watch. It wasn't quite nine yet.

"Only about fifteen minutes. I notice you're dressed all spiffy. Did Miss Greengrass keep you up all night?" Hannah teased.

"No. Only until one or two," Harry responded.

"Details!" Hannah demanded.

"It wasn't that interesting," Harry laughed, shaking his head a little bit.

"Ouch," Hannah said. "She can't be that terrible."

"I wouldn't know," Harry admitted. His partner just frowned.

"Lame," she said.

"How many boys do you sleep with on first dates?" Harry asked. And he was probably more interested in the answer than he should have been.

"First dates? None," Hannah smirked.

"Well there you go," Harry said.

"What'd you two do last night, then?" Hannah asked. "It couldn't have been a total loss if you were out late."

"We went to that French place. The food was pretty good. Split a couple of bottles of wine. After that I walked her home," he said.

"What are you writing a report for Dawlish?" Hannah laughed.

"Hey now, you're dates rarely sound more interesting than that," Harry teased. A moment later a waitress appeared and they ordered breakfast.

"I disagree," Hannah said.

"Well your opinion isn't of any importance in this matter."

"Fine. You certainly weren't out with her at a restaurant until one in the morning. So what happened next?"

"She invited me inside. And I accepted. We ended up watching some movie and I fell asleep on the couch. Woke up in the morning. We had some tea, and then we left."

"You really are boring," Hannah commented.

"I guess. She was pretty upset about Pansy, really."

"That's to be expected. They were close in school."

"It put a bit of a damper on the dinner," Harry commented.

"I could see that happening," Hannah said.

"You're not being overly helpful," Harry responded as their food arrived. He speared his eggs while Hannah added some salt and pepper to hers.

"Not trying to," Hannah said as she started on her meal.

"Figures," he scoffed and focused more on eating than conversation.

"So you going out with her again?" she asked, cutting her eggs into neat little sections with her fork.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it. She'd been entertaining enough. "I told her that I'd be willing to try again. Since the night wasn't really favorable for cashing in on her bet."

"You don't seem too excited about it," Hannah commented.

"Eh, you know how I am," Harry said. Hannah nodded a little bit. She was probably more familiar with Harry Potter than many people realized. Although it had been at least a year since any periodical had asked her to give an interview about the private life of Harry Potter.

Hannah doubted the lack of interest reporters had anything to do with some rather nasty curses that may or may not have been accidently cast on a few of them. But that's a story for another day.

"I do know how you are," Hannah teased. "And as such I'm perfectly aware that you do indeed become excited on occasion."

"Touché," Harry said with a little bit of a smile as he finished his breakfast.

"How about you, Abbott? You have a good evening?" Harry asked. He noticed she had a copy of the Daily Prophet in the booth and he slid it across the table toward him. The headlines weren't anything interesting, so he didn't do much more than page through it while sipping his drink.

"Oh a fantastic one," she sighed longingly.

"Fantastic? What did you wind up on a date?" Harry asked. Hannah very rarely gave positive comments about her evenings.

"With my bathtub," she affirmed and Harry just laughed.

"Well that's certainly not a first date. How was he?" Harry teased.

"Warm and loving," Hannah replied without missing a beat. She finished up her meal and just stared at her tea for a moment.

"Are things getting serious between you two?" Harry asked. "Does Theodore Nott have competition?"

"Probably," Hannah nodded. "But we weren't that busy last night. I was way too tired. I think I crashed just a few hours after seeing the pathologist."

"Any updates there?" Harry asked. Their conversations always eventually wound up focusing on their current cases, so both of them knew better than to force it. They'd decided long ago that it was just better to chat a bit in the morning before focusing on work affairs.

"Nothing we didn't expect. Dr. Michaels couldn't quite rule on a cause of death. She didn't think it was strangulation though. She said the wounds on her neck and throat weren't severe enough to have killed her," Hannah informed him. She flipped her notebook back a few pages, to what Harry could only assume was a summarization of the report she'd received from the doctor.

"So what was the cause of death?" Harry asked.

"Dr. Michaels didn't know. None of the physical wounds were severe enough to have caused her death," Hannah replied.

"Not even when compounded together? She looked pretty beat up," Harry asked.

"She didn't mention it."

"And not an overdose?"

"She didn't rule it out, but didn't think that was correct, either," Hannah sighed. "She was still waiting on the toxicology reports when I dropped in. I suspect we can have them from the ministry after lunch."

"You had them pick up the body already?" Harry asked. Usually if they let the Muggles have it, they let them run all their tests and picked it up later. Hannah perhaps jumped the gun on that decision, but it wasn't major enough for Harry to hold it against her.

"Dr. Michaels didn't have a clue. So it seemed pretty useless to have it sit there for another day or two," Hannah shrugged her shoulders.

"At least we'll wait less time for the magical report then, I guess," Harry said. Hannah just nodded her assent.

"Killing Curse?" Harry speculated, although it didn't add up in his head.

"I doubt it. That's too powerful of a spell. We'd have sensed it for sure unless she was like weeks dead. And she certainly didn't look it," Hannah voiced all of his doubts and it was his turn to nod his assent.

"It's not the hardest thing in the world to preserve a body," he commented. Again, he thought it a weak argument, and he fully expected she'd voice his exact concerns. But voicing ideas helped them figure things out. It was sort of a pattern that they just developed after working with each other.

"It isn't. But still, I didn't sense _anything_ from the body. We'd have noticed. We're trained to notice."

"I could sense something. I couldn't place it. But it was very minor. Probably too minor to have preserved a body," Harry sighed. "I just assumed it was the birth control charm she'd cast. If it was fresh enough to appear on the wand it would probably be the faint magic I felt."

"You can sense something like that a day later?" Hannah asked, looking a little surprised.

"Usually, yes," Harry admitted.

"Remind me to be careful what charms I use on myself around you," she laughed.

"I don't think its cold enough to warrant a warming charm this morning," Harry said with a slight shrug. Hannah just blinked at him.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said. "There's no way."

"Lucky guess," Harry smirked, but didn't give her any indication of whether or not he'd been guessing. "So we're left pretty much where we started. We have a dead woman. We don't know who or what killed her. Her wand wound up at the home of the head of the office with a note. And to top it all off we have no idea why."

"Sums it up nicely," Hannah said. "Now we just need to think of a place to start looking."

"Daphne gave me something that could be a hint," Harry said.

"You're not supposed to discuss the case with others," Hannah teased.

"I didn't," Harry commented. "She just talked about Pansy for a little bit. Seemed silly to stop her and not learn about the victim."

"What did she say?"

"Pansy was depressed for a while. But Daphne thought she was doing better. And that she'd seemed happy for the first time since school. But she also mentioned that Pansy liked going to Muggle night clubs," Harry recounted the conversation from the previous evening.

"Muggle night clubs?" Hannah asked, she looked a little aghast. "A pureblood witch in a Muggle night club with all the touching and groping?"

"Sometimes you're such a prude," he laughed. "It's just dancing really."

"I guess," she shrugged.

"So if there's one in the area, perhaps someone at it will recognize her. Or remember seeing her. And maybe we can turn that into a lead," Harry sighed. He knew Hannah knew that, but he was really just thinking aloud.

"I walked around the park a bit yesterday before going to see Dr. Michaels," Hannah said. "I didn't see any, but I stayed in the very immediate vicinity."

"Well I'd like to explore a bit more today," Harry said.

"Alright," Hannah nodded. "But can we wait until it stops raining?" Harry looked out the window. It hadn't been raining when he entered, but it was pouring now. He frowned a little at the London weather. If they were in a magical area, they'd both just cast water-repelling charms on themselves. But Muggles tended to notice those.

"Got any suggestions of what to do while it's raining?" he asked.

"Cherchez l'homme!" Hannah exclaimed happily. Harry just stared at her.

"How long have you been waiting to use that one?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much since Mrs. Parkinson gave us the hint about Draco Malfoy," Hannah said. "I've always wanted to work that into a case. And follow the money. But I don't know how to say that in French."

"Suivez l'argent?" Harry suggested. Hannah just looked at him for a moment.

"Don't ruin my fun," she said before apparating straight out of the restaurant. He waited for their waitress to return and left her the coins for the meal and an ample tip.

Moments later he focused on the apparate point. He had nightmares about where he was going to pop up. And he hadn't been there since what should have been his seventh year.

Malfoy Manor still seemed to loom on the horizon to him. Although the house itself didn't look as menacing as he remembered it from his last visit. Hannah stood nearby and gazed at it himself.

"For some reason I thought it would be bigger," she said.

"It's pretty damn big," Harry laughed as they started to walk toward the house.

"I guess. I was hoping for like Versailles," she commented, keeping with the French theme.

"Nope, just a big house. Apparently they got rid of the peacocks, though," Harry commented.

"They had peacocks?" Hannah laughed.

"They did," Harry affirmed. He took out his wand and used it to activate the knocker on the door before they were finished walking up the path. Hannah rolled her eyes at his impatience. But it worked, because as soon as they stepped up to the door, it opened. To Harry's surprise they weren't greeted by an elf like they were at the Parkinson's. Instead, Narcissa Malfoy looked at the two Aurors.

"Can I help you?" she asked, hiding herself behind part of the door. From what Harry could see it looked like she'd aged at least a decade in the five years since the war ended.

"We were hoping you and your husband would answer some questions for us," Hannah said with a cheerful smile. However, the smile didn't lure Narcissa out from behind the door.

"Do you have a warrant?" the Malfoy Matriarch asked.

"We can get one," Harry said dryly.

"Not those types of questions," Hannah said at the same time.

"I don't think that we have the time," Narcissa said cautiously. "I'm not even sure where my husband is."

"We'll gladly make an appointment for a more convenient time," Hannah smiled. "But really it won't take too long. And it may be easier for us to just have you come down to the ministry." The veiled threat worked well enough.

"It really is much easier to just let us ask now," Harry said. "We'll be out of your hair before you know it."

"What do you want to ask about?" Narcissa asked.

"Your son and Pansy Parkinson," Hannah said.

"Oh," Narcissa frowned. But after a few moments she just opened the door. "Why don't you follow me to my husband's office. We can talk there." Something about her tone struck Harry as awkward. He felt she knew more than she was letting on. But he didn't want to give anything away.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hannah said as she led the way into the home. It took Harry a few moments to follow her into the house he hoped he'd never have to return to. Narcissa led them up the stairs and down a hallway before they entered a large office. Her husband sat at a desk, hunched over a stack of paper, his quill scratching loudly against the paper. Harry couldn't help but wonder just what the man was up to. But he suspected he was still in the process of trying to regain some of his lost wealth from when he was 'forced' to spend it to dote on Lord Voldemort. The endeavor had not been faring well for Lucius.

"Lucius, we have some visitors," she said quietly. He looked up and then nearly jumped out of his seat upon seeing the Aurors.

"What do they want?" he asked carefully, his eyes very wide. Harry rather appreciated the look. Despite the years that had passed since the war, the 'repentant' Death Eaters were always on their toes around him.

Of course he knew they assumed all he wanted to do was drag them off to prison. And truthfully, Harry wouldn't have minded that. But most of his war bias had faded after he became more involved in the day-to-day of Auror work. As far as he was concerned, they could go on doing whatever it was they did. If they broke a law, he'd put them away for life. But he just didn't have the time to try to round them up and prove they were all liars. He couldn't correct the mistakes of the last administration. But he could make sure the current one didn't make such mistakes.

"We'd like to ask you some questions about your son," Hannah started.

"I do not anticipate being able to help you," Lucius responded. His tone was severe. It seemed to be a bit of a sore topic.

"Do you know where he was two nights ago?" Hannah asked.

"No," Lucius said. Hannah just turned to look at Narcissa.

"No," she admitted.

"Is that common?" Harry asked.

"That's none of your-" Lucius started.

"Yes," Narcissa finished.

"Narcissa!" Lucius scolded. Harry rolled his eyes. The half-bloods and Muggle-borns were always easier to deal with. He suspected the Purebloods had grown too accustomed to being able to walk all over any ministry representative.

"If they were going to arrest you, Lucius, they would have already. They'll be out of here sooner if you're not difficult," Narcissa reasoned.

"Then you answer their questions," her husband scolded. Hannah just took a moment before continuing.

"Do you have any idea where he could have been?"

"Not in any helpful way," Narcissa said. "Draco hasn't really spoken to us since the Battle of Hogwarts," Narcissa admitted.

"Why not?" Harry asked. It wasn't the type of question he'd usually ask. But his last image of the Malfoy family at Hogwarts had been them huddled together while everyone else celebrated the fall of Voldemort.

"I don't know," Narcissa frowned. And Harry believed her, because she pressed her lips together in a way that indicated she'd continue speaking once she better formulated her thoughts. "He just grew very distant after. We got him a flat off of Diagon Alley because he wanted to move out of the manor for a while. We floo'd and wrote a bit to start. But of late he very rarely responds to our calls."

"Does he still live in that flat?" Harry asked.

"As far as we know," Narcissa responded.

"Can you give us the address? We'd like to speak to him," Hannah said.

"Sure," Narcissa said. She looked toward her husband as if looking for paper and a quill. Hannah just took a step toward her, though, and handed her the pen and pad she used. Narcissa looked disdainfully at the pen but started writing.

"Why?" Lucius asked.

"Des your son have a relationship with Pansy Parkinson?" Harry asked.

"They've had a betrothal contract since they were born," Lucius admitted.

"And have they been seeing each other recently?" Hannah asked.

"He never mentioned her," Narcissa said with a frown.

"So you cannot tell us whether or not they've been seeing each other?" Harry asked.

"Not with any sort of accuracy," Narcissa admitted. "He spoke of her a lot until he was about sixteen. After that he spoke of her less and less."

"When were they supposed to be wed?" Hannah asked.

"By twenty-five per the contract," Narcissa said with a slight frown. Harry suspected she'd caught the past tense his partner used.

"Was it very binding?"

"Not overly much. We were thrilled when they showed a mutual interest. But had they expressed concerns over it I'm not sure either side would have held them to it," Narcissa admitted. Lucius made a scoffing sound that indicated his disagreement.

"Had either expressed concerns?" Hannah asked, quoting the older woman.

"Not to me," Narcissa said.

"Or me," Lucius responded. Harry didn't think either of them was being dishonest.

"Why are you asking these questions?" Narcissa asked.

"We found Pansy Parkinson dead in a park two days ago. She appeared to be murdered," Harry said as bluntly as he could.

"Oh no!" Narcissa gasped. "I need to go see Violet!" she stood and moved toward the door.

"And you suspect Draco," Lucius said quietly. His words stopped Narcissa in her tracks.

"How can you suspect Draco," she asked.

"We don't suspect anyone at this point," Harry said as tonelessly as he could manage.

"But then why are you here!" Narcissa was growing hysterical now.

"It is standard procedure to ask questions of anyone the victim may have been close to," Hannah said. "The Parkinson's thought she was still close with Draco. So this was our next stop."

"But he wouldn't have hurt her!" Narcissa said.

"But he may know who did," Harry said. Of course, he didn't believe her. But honesty wasn't going to serve him very well in this situation. He didn't think the Malfoys knew anything of relevance. They'd given him the best information they could in Draco's address. They'd just have to pay him a visit and find out.

"So you're going to be questioning him next?" Lucius asked.

"That's likely," Harry said. Lucius gave him a calculating stare. Harry expected Draco would be getting a letter shortly after they left. But they'd find him. And they'd drag him off to the ministry for questioning if they had to.

"Now, too, I suspect," Hannah smiled confidently at Lucius. "Thank you for your time, we can show ourselves out." And she turned and walked out of the study. Harry followed her after giving the Malfoys a curt nod. They didn't talk as they walked back down the stairs and out of the Manor. Once they crossed the grounds and stepped through the gate Harry spoke up.

"That went well," he sighed. Hannah shrugged.

"Pretty clear they didn't really know anything. Still want to go to the park and look around, or shall we pop over to Draco's residence?"

"Draco's," Harry said without a moment's hesitation. "Be best if we can get there before Lucius's owl."

"You think he'll try to warn him?" Hannah asked. "I got the strangest feeling they weren't on the best of terms."

"Me too," Harry agreed. "But blood and water and all that. And they both hate me more. So I suspect he'll try."

"Well there's the address," she said, flashing the notebook to him. Harry memorized it quickly, before Hannah apparated away. Harry followed suit a moment later, thinking on how he was heading from a point he'd rather have never visited again, to meet a person he'd wished he'd never had to see again.

Author's note: Chapter six is already completed and beta'd and will be posted in a couple of days. Seven is partially complete at this point, and I've got through 11 mapped out pretty well, so hopefully I can get about an update a week.

I'm also debating changing the 'characters' to Harry/Hannah purely because they're the main two in the story, and as such not having that label reflect any possible romantic interest. At the same time, I may also just drop it to Harry. We'll see, any suggestions are appreciated.

As always, thanks for reading, I do appreciate it. And the best way to to contact me is typically through PM.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making nothing that even remotely resembles a profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 6

The alley was a bustle of activity when Harry and Hannah popped in. No one acknowledged their presence, but that was fairly common when apparating into crowded magical areas. Hannah immediately set off toward the side street that would lead toward the residence they were looking for. Harry followed a few steps back.

"What are the chances he's home?" Hannah asked after a few moments.

"Probably slim," Harry admitted. Still, going there immediately seemed like a better idea than letting Lucius's communications come through.

"Do you know what he does?" Hannah asked.

"No," Harry admitted. "I'd thought something for the ministry. Didn't he used to hang around the Department of the Interior? Or Foreign Sports or something?"

"Only right after the war," Hannah said. "And I think that was when he was trying to help his dad get their money back."

"Ah," Harry said. "Well I haven't heard anything about him. Did they have enough left over assets for him to go the usual Pureblood route?" Although, in fairness, it was coming more into vogue for some of the wealthier Purebloods to seek employment. But Harry suspected that was largely due to the success of others coming out of Hogwarts.

George Weasley, for example, was one of the wealthiest wizards in Britain, due in large part to the massive success of his chain of joke shops and variety of other contracts. There was hardly a magical community that didn't have a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes location.

Ron was a massive help to the business after the war. He'd kept the main store in Diagon Alley running and even started expanding before George pulled out of his funk. The twin hadn't quite been the same. But he was doing better now, and Harry was rather proud of both of them.

He also suspected it helped that they got incredibly inexpensive advertising from Ginny, who'd agreed to plug just about every one of their products. And her popularity from her quidditch success practically insured the success of whatever product line she promoted.

"Probably, they got him the apartment," Hannah said. "You know how families like that will never tell you just how much money they have."

"I always wondered why that was," Harry laughed. "They brag about everything else."

"I suspect because putting a quantity to it would open themselves to the possibility of someone knowing they're wealthier. And that would hinder the whole 'we're superior to you in every way' argument," Hannah said.

"That it would," Harry admitted. "Are you sure you know where you going?" He only asked because Hannah was gazing around a little bit, eyeing the street signs far too carefully. And it wouldn't have been the first time she'd gotten them lost while leading them through a residential district.

Harry had a lot of very positive things to say about Hannah Abbott. But the ability to locate anything they couldn't apparate directly to was not one of them.

"Of course I do," she scoffed. "It should be the next street.

"It's not. The next one is Elm," Harry said.

"Well then the one after that!"

"Cherry," Harry responded, wondering if all the streets of the small residential area were named after wood used for wandmaking.

"Fuck you, Potter," she scoffed. "Ash has to be around here somewhere!"

"Perhaps it's the one after Cherry?" Harry suggested.

"It's not," she sighed. "That's Oak."

"If we already passed it I'm going to be very annoyed with you, Abbott," he said.

"Maybe it's after oak," Hannah responded.

"What do you know!" Harry said, sounding legitimately shocked. "Ash!"

"Ha! See I knew I was on the right track."

"It has to be that one," Harry said. He gestured to a building a few homes down. It appeared to be the only one with actual units in it. And if their information from Narcissa was right, Draco was in unit six oh two. Harry walked up to the building and pressed his wand to the directory next to the door. The bricks on the building swirled for a moment before the magical text appeared.

At first just the numbers one through eight appeared. He tapped the six with his wand and the text turned into a floor plan. Unit 602 was labeled with 'Draco Malfoy' so Harry pressed his wand to it, knowing that doing so activated the buzzer signaling a visitor. He waited for a response.

None came.

"Well that's to be expected," Hannah sighed as Harry tried again.

"He's ignoring us," Harry frowned. He let his gaze shift up toward the apartment.

"Or he could just not be home," Hannah commented.

"Perhaps," Harry said, trying the magical buzzer for the third time. After receiving no response he cursed under his breath and stepped away from the wall, the magical floor plan disappearing moments after his wand slid off the brick.

"We could always try for a warrant," Hannah said. "Go in and search the place."

"We really don't have enough cause to get the Wizengamot let us go breaking in to places," Harry joked.

"Probably not," Hannah said. She stepped over toward the side of the building and leaned against a wall. She picked a spot where she could see the entrance well enough, as well as remain mostly inconspicuous if needed. Of course, they'd have to hope that Draco didn't just apparate directly to his apartment. But a lot of times, for safety and privacy reasons, the entire building would be charmed against that.

"Wait or explore?" Harry asked.

"I'll wait," Hannah said. "Do a turn around the area and see if you can come up with anything?"

"Sounds good," Harry said and he started walking down Ash street toward Willow lane. It wasn't a very remarkable street. There were a few small houses and another couple of buildings similar to the one they believed Malfoy lived in. On the next corner Harry noticed a market and an apparition location.

Those were growing more common. Much to Harry, and most Auror's dismay. They arose largely from Harry's accounts of how they apparated around so much during the war. Apparently some at the ministry didn't find that to be such a good idea, so the newest craze was tracking all forms of apparition.

The Department of Magical Transportation claimed Apparation was dangerous. And with so many people apparating to common areas like Diagon Alley, there was too much of a chance of people accidently apparating onto, or into, someone else. It was something Harry hadn't considered to be a problem. But the ministry disagreed.

Harry suspected the people in Transportation were just looking for a way to get some more money. Especially because talk soon came about of tracking all apparations and fining people who were caught apparating to non-apparation locations. As ministry employees, both Harry and Hannah did have most of their daily movements tracked. But they were allowed to get away with far more than others.

In fact, just a few days before Harry had overheard two members of the Department of Games and Sport complaining about how they were chastised for apparating to a quidditch stadium, rather than taking the public floos.

Harry was cynical enough to wonder if the crackdown on apparition was simply because the Department of Magical Transporation also controlled the production of floo powder. But he supposed the ministry needed funding somehow. Either way, he figured it was best to just glare at the officials who questioned him on his apparition habits and go about his business as usual.

If tickets started appearing at his home, though, he'd grow very annoyed.

He couldn't help but laugh a little at the thoughts as he turned down another residential street. If Oxford happened tomorrow, he'd spend the next few weeks accounting for every time he'd apparated during the battle, and why they hadn't been to designated points. Bureaucracy at its finest, Harry guessed.

Of course, during combat was one of the only times he could travel with magical assistance and not feel queasy after. In fact, when he was fighting he could apparate nearly constantly and not feel any ill effects.

That's how he managed to seem everywhere at Oxford. Other Aurors had commented on it after the battle. No matter where they looked, Harry Potter was somewhere. He'd shrugged it off mostly because he thought he was just doing his job.

It had seemed so mechanical, and so routine, at the time. He'd fight someone, he'd beat them, he'd apparate to wherever someone else as in trouble. Rinse and repeat. It wasn't until after the battle that he'd realized most of the fights were only taking a couple of minutes at most.

It hadn't occurred to him until much later in the battle that the same wasn't true for everyone else there. The casualty list after everything was said and done staggered him. But he shook those thoughts from his head.

It was toward the end of the battle that he'd found Hannah. He'd just been in the middle of apparating all over. After finishing off one Death Eater he noticed two more out of the corner of his eye. They were approaching a destroyed building, so he apparated into the building.

And moments later he'd found himself resting against a destroyed wall next to a crying Hannah Abbott. Her blond hair was completely disheveled and there was dirt and blood just about everywhere on her. And a very large red splatter on a nearby wall. Harry hadn't wanted to think about what that could have been. When he first saw her, he'd assumed she was seriously injured.

"Are you hit?" he asked. His voice was little more than a whisper, but he had to be sure the approaching wizards didn't notice his presence. Hannah didn't respond. But she looked at him. Her blue eyes were wide and it took her a moment to just nod.

"Good," he said. And he rested his hand against hers for just a moment, before taking it into his and pulling her to her feet. "Let's go!" And he pulled her up over the wall. He remembered seeing here just sort of stand there and looked around. She looked very confused.

He'd tried to remember everything he'd known about Hannah Abbott at that point. It wasn't much. He briefly remembered her from the D.A sessions. But he couldn't remember what she'd done during them. They were in a few of the same Auror classes. They'd have been in their law lecture that evening, if every available person hadn't been summoned to Oxford. In class she was mostly quiet. He knew she took a couple of medical classes.

But his thoughts shifted as the first spell, a cutter, shot past him. He didn't look to see if it hit Hannah. Part of him didn't want to think about that. He countered with cutters of his own. The first Death Eater fell quickly. The other put up more of a fight. Harry didn't recognize him but he was blonde and tall and had some sort of a scar on his face. And Harry was exhausted. He just kept firing spells and blocking spells.

At least until the big man fell. But Harry was pretty sure he hadn't hit him. He turned and saw Hannah standing there. Her wand still trained on the man. She hit his slumped body with another spell. And then another. Before just looking up at Harry. She was still wide-eyed but her sight seemed more focused.

"Still good?" Harry said, choosing to ignore the fact that she cursed a downed Death Eater into a corpse. Part of him knew her solution was probably better than his in the long run. And it didn't feel as off as it had when he was younger.

"Yes," Hannah said quietly.

"I'm going over there," Harry said. He gestured to where spells were flying off on the horizon. He wondered just how much of the city was engulfed in magical combat, and just how busy the Oblivators would be in the days to come. She nodded a bit and he apparated away.

He was fairly surprised when Hannah was already there as he popped into existence. He cursed a Death Eater who was just leveling his wand on the blonde girl and moved to assist the other Aurors involved.

Two hours later he was even more exhausted and the small town square was nothing more than rubble. Harry walked slowly around the area. He barely noticed that Hannah Abbott was still following him. He didn't really speak with her. Instead he kept his eyes on the captured Death Eaters.

Part of him wondered why the Death Eaters would want to make such a final stand. What did they think could be accomplished with Voldemort gone? He really couldn't wait to unmask some of them, just to see who he'd never have to deal with again. And he realized how terrible of a thought that was.

But as he surveyed the scene, he marveled at how close they'd come. There were only a handful of fully trained Aurors standing and still mobile, as well as a few other ministry officials that joined into the fight. The rest of them were either being apparated out, mostly by volunteers from St. Mungo's, or flood out if they were capable.

"Harry," Hannah said quietly from his side. He turned and looked at her. She was still covered in dirt and blood and her hair was matted to her side.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Kingsley wants some medical staff to look you over," Hannah said timidly. She was looking over toward the acting minister. He was waving them over toward what Harry could only assume was the medical area.

"Everyone else okay?" Harry asked, and to his surprise, Hannah just laughed.

"Have you looked around, Potter?" she said.

"I guess you have a point, Abbott," he responded. And he just turned and walked over to the medical tent.

His examination hadn't taken that long. A healer looked him over and seemed fairly amazed at how few wounds he had. Honestly, Harry felt like he'd had more physically damaging quidditch injuries in his day. Kingsley just watched intently and looked stunned as well.

Hannah's examination took a bit longer. But mostly because the healer looking over her spent a great deal of time cleaning off wounds and examining them more thoroughly than Harry felt was necessary for a routine examination. He noticed Hannah winced at parts of the exam. But after his healer declared him fit he decided staying with Hannah made him feel a bit too much like a voyeur, so he just stood and walked over to the minister.

"Where do you need me, sir?" he asked. Shacklebolt just looked at him for a moment.

"Gather up the remaining recruits," Shacklebolt said.

"Sir?" Harry asked, not sure why that was the ministers order.

"We should have enough bodies here now. And the other side is decimated. I can't imagine them trying anything as they're being treated. It doesn't look like many of the recruits made it through unscathed. We need a headcount. Gather them up and take them back to the Academy. Make sure they check in when they get back. We'll debrief in the morning," Shaklebolt said. He was looking for someone as he gazed around, but Harry didn't really want to ask who.

"Back to the classroom after this?" Harry asked. He knew he didn't really have any place questioning the minister, especially when he wasn't even technically an Auror yet. But Shacklebolt didn't tell him off.

"Look around, Mr. Potter," Shacklebolt said quietly. "Most of the trainees graduated or failed today." Harry swallowed hard at the minister's words as he did gaze around. Some of the hospital staff appeared to be cataloguing the dead.

"And if they don't want to go back after this?" Harry said. "If they'd rather go home?" Harry suspected that many wouldn't feel like being in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after the events of the day. He knew the Minister understood his meaning.

"Then let them go home," Kingsley said with a sigh. And Harry knew that there wasn't really anything they could do if people wanted to leave. It was just a profession, after all.

"Okay. I'll get the uninjured back to the Academy," he said. The minister nodded at him.

"I'll help," Hannah said from his side. He just nodded and they stepped away from the tent, looking for their contemporaries and fellow trainees. It really didn't take that long to gather up those who remained. Just about every one of them agreed to return with him, and so they apparated back to the Academy as a group.

Harry made sure everyone checked in when they returned. And then they all moved to the dormitories. Harry walked into his room and looked around. He'd shared it with a former Hufflepuff a few years his senior. But he was gone. Harry hadn't gotten to know him that well in the few months at the Auror Academy. Harry ignored the other man's stuff as much he could and just stepped into the bathroom, deciding a shower was the best start to washing the battle off of him.

He snapped back to reality as he completed his circuit around the block. He saw his slim blonde partner still leaning against the wall of the building. She looked fairly bored. Harry walked up next to her and leaned against the same wall.

"Spot anything?" she asked.

"New Indian place on the corner back there," Harry said, gesturing with a nod.

"Oh yeah? Look good?" she asked.

"Looked hole-in-the-wallish, local," Harry said.

"Worth a shot I guess," Hannah responded.

"Probably," he said.

"Now did you find anything of value?" Hannah asked after a few moments of silence.

"No," Harry admitted. "You?"

"All's quiet on the apartment front," Hannah deadpanned. Harry snickered a little bit.

"How long did it take you to think up that one?"

"Not nearly long enough, trust me," she sighed.

"Stakeout?" Harry asked after a few moments. He still wanted to explore the area around where they'd found the body, but he could wait n that if he had to. It would probably be something better served if they waited for an evening too, anyway, as whatever club Pansy was attending. The sooner he questioned people the more likely he was to get an actual decent answer. Perhaps they could delegate the task.

"May as well," Hannah said. "But I want to go and try to question some people around that park soon." Harry was secretly amazed by how often they thought alike.

"Me too," he said. Hannah sighed and looked up toward the sky.

"Evening is coming on," she said.

"Summon some backup?" he asked. In events like this they'd often delegate some tasks to trainees or otherwise unoccupied members of their department.

"Will do," Hannah said. And she summoned up her patronus and sent it off. After a few steps it disappeared. They just kept leaning against the wall as they waited for the reinforcements. It only took Neville and his partner, a mid-fifties Auror with a good reputation, about ten minutes to show up. Harry briefed the two on the situation. Neville knew what Draco looked like well enough that Harry was confident his former housemate could identify and question him if the situation arose.

Harry and Hannah didn't find anything of any importance when they looked around the park. They canvassed about six blocks around it in every direction before deciding it was likely a dead end. They knew that going in, that there was a very good chance the killer had just dropped the body there, but it had been worth a shot.

Harry met with Neville in the office the next morning. Draco hadn't shown up during the night. They'd called two trainees in around three in the morning. As far as Neville knew they'd still be there, but they were supposed to contact either of them at the first sign of Draco Malfoy.

Harry thanked him for his help before they exchanged a few pleasantries. Mostly Neville just asked about Hannah. Harry had to admit he was surprised by that. He didn't really ever talk to her while they were all in the office. Eventually, though, Neville returned to his own work and Harry decided to go relieve the two trainees.

He apparated to the point near the grocer and walked down toward the building in question. He saw both trainees sitting on a bench across the street from it. They weren't making any effort to blend in, but either had Harry and Hannah the day before, past leaning against the building. Harry would have scolded them, but the point hadn't been to be undetected, it was just to question Malfoy.

Either way, they looked incredibly bored and they were both rather glad to see him. He relieved them before wandering over to the building and trying the buzzer again. There still wasn't any answer.

He leaned against the wall and waited, the idea of a getting a warrant seeming like a better idea after every moment of waiting. But even then, part of him doubted he'd find anything in the apartment. Although not being able to find Draco was slowly convincing him of his former rival's guilt.

But mostly he just waited, wishing he hadn't told Hannah to sleep in to catch up on some rest that morning. Had she been there they could have at least conversed. He didn't risk paging through his case notes, mostly because he didn't want to take his eyes off of the surrounding area.

So really he just sat and thought about the case. Something about what the Malfoy's mentioned of the marriage contract bugged him. Draco hadn't ever asked about getting out of it. But they hadn't seen each other, and then Pansy wound up dead? He guessed murder was one way to not have to deal with it. But why would he have sent her wand and a note to the Department? That still bothered him.

Harry just kept thinking, hoping that something would come to him. Nothing did, and eventually he saw his partner approaching. She carried drinks and what could only be sandwiches and Harry started salivating.

"I thought you were sleeping in," Harry said when she approached. She handed him the one of the drinks, warm black tea.

"It's two," she said. Harry blinked and looked at his watch.

"Well that's a wasted day," he sighed.

"No sign of him?" she asked.

"None at all. Not really many signs of life on this street during the day."

"I see that," she said, handing him a ham and swiss in a neatly wrapped bag. He recognized the label as a small deli not far from the Leaky Cauldron. Ron raved about their food, it was one of his favorite lunch stops since it wasn't far from the joke shop. Harry ate it in a few bites, not bothering to reflect long on it.

And they just continued to wait. A few more hours passed with intermittent conversation until Hannah let out a drawn-out sigh.

"You should probably head home now," she said.

"What, why?" Harry asked.

"You'll miss your date with Miss Lovegood if you don't" Hannah teased. Harry had almost forgotten about it.

"That's right," he said. "You don't mind if I leave you alone?"

"I left you alone all day," she responded. "And I set up to get some relief around midnight. I'll send for you if anything interesting happens."

"Alright," he said. "Thanks Hannah." She just nodded to him and he left.

A few hours later he was dressed, cleaned, and walking up toward Luna's flat. She'd abandoned the Lovegood family home after the war. Harry suspected there were many different reasons for that, although she claimed it was just easier to be closer to the wand shop. He wondered if she'd move to the upstairs lodgings of Ollivander's when the elder wizard passed, assuming he left the shop to his apprentice.

He walked to the small, two story house that Luna lived in. She rented what was the equivalent of the fifth floor of the magical dwelling, despite having first floor views when inside. He pressed his wand to the five marked on the wall. Her name didn't accompany it on this one, but the landlord only ever put the numbers out. A few moments later the door opened.

Luna was, well, overdressed. But that wasn't why Harry stared at her, with his mouth open a little bit.

"Uh, hi Luna," he said quietly. Her hair was braided down her back and she wore a periwinkle dress. Somehow, the faded blue seemed to make her look paler than usual. Her eyes were wide and bright.

"Hi Harry," she said.

"I feel underdressed," he laughed. He just wore jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt on the warm evening.

"Oh," she looked a little startled. "I can go change." She looked over her shoulder and moved back to the house.

"Don't do that," Harry laughed. "You look wonderful."

"Thank you," she smiled uncertainly.

"Did you decide where you wanted to go?" he asked.

"Uhm, how about Chez Andre?" she asked. It was a French restaurant, and the namesake of a rather famous Beauxbatons wizard who'd opened a chain of them. He was famous for trying to attract Muggles to his establishments. It annoyed some of the clientele from the mainland, but the chef made a killing, so Harry suspected he was doing something right.

Harry vaguely remembered a piece about one of his French locations, where the wizards present openly used magic one evening and the Muggle guests hadn't even noticed, being too caught up with each other and the food. Harry doubted the veracity of the article, but it had been interesting.

"Sounds good," he said.

"Okay," Luna smiled and walked off down the street. Harry took a moment to stare at her legs and backside before following her.

He was fairly amazed when they arrived at the restaurant and were seated almost immediately. But it didn't appear to be that busy of an evening for the establishment. They each gazed over the menu as they sat in the small booth.

"Want to split a bottle of wine?" Harry asked. Luna never drank when they went out for lunch. But neither did he. Most times they'd each have to get back to work. She looked at him for a moment.

"Okay," she said. Harry wondered if she'd ever even had alcohol before. It seemed like an impertinent thing to ask.

"Red or white?" he asked. She just shrugged.

"You pick," she said dreamily.

"Well, what are you going to order?" he asked. She looked at him, like she didn't quite understand the question, or his sudden interest in it, but responded after a moment.

"The chicken, I think," she said.

"And I'm probably going to do the whitefish, so let's go with a white," he said.

"Okay," she responded. And when the waiter returned they ordered up a Sancerre and their food. And they passed the awkward start of the date asking safe and irrelevant questions. Luna seemed to enjoy the wine, her cheeks flushed red after just a few sips. Eventually, their food arrived.

"How's wand-making?" Harry asked after taking the first bite of his fish.

"Okay," Luna frowned. She sipped more wine and stared at the chicken for a moment before starting on it.

"Not enjoying it?" Harry asked. It was the first time she'd ever not sounded thrilled by the prospect of becoming Diagon Alley's resident wand mistress.

"I'm terrible at it," she said.

"I doubt that's true," Harry said.

"No, it is," she sighed. She took a moment to eat some of her food and Harry decided it would be best to just let her continue. "Ollivander scolds me constantly. He says I have no feel for what cores work with what woods. And that I can't ever get a length right. And I don't remember every wand I ever made."

"Well everything takes practice," he said.

"I make like twenty wands a day," she frowned. "On a good day he declares maybe two passable."

"Well that doesn't seem too bad," Harry said.

"No. Passable isn't good enough to sell in the shop. Just good enough to function in a pinch," she explained. Harry frowned a little bit.

"You'll get there, I'm sure. You're brilliant. And it hasn't been that long."

"Two years," Luna sighed. Harry winced a bit. Sometimes he was amazed by how much time had passed since the war.

"I'm sure you'll become amazing at it," he said. She shrugged.

"I think he just picked me because I was there and he thought he was going to die. I think he's regretting it," Luna said. Harry winced a little bit at his words.

"I'm sure he's not," Harry said. He could tell his reassurances weren't doing anything to sooth the girl, though. Still, she looked up from her food and smiled at him.

"But that's enough about that. How about we talk about your job. Capture any dangerous wizards lately? I notice you haven't exposed the Rotfang conspiracy yet. One may be starting to get the impression you're involved."

"How would I go about proving I'm not?" he asked, sipping his wine to hide his smile.

"Well, you don't have the associated fangs, so I think you're good for now," she explained.

"Good to know. But sadly, I haven't caught any dark wizards lately. It's been a pretty quiet, really. Standard crime stuff mostly of late," he explained. She nodded a little bit.

"Are you on the Parkinson case?" she asked. It had hit the papers the day before. Although there wasn't much information except that she was found dead, and that the authorities suspected murder.

"I am," he admitted. "But I'm not really supposed to just talk about cases."

"I know," she said. "I feel sorry for her. No one deserves that."

"Me too," he said. "Hannah and I will catch whoever did it."

"Any leads?" she asked. Harry knew he shouldn't really bring up the details. But something made him speak.

"Nothing solid," he said. "So far we've just talked with the parents and looked in the area around where we found her. Hannah and I have been trying to find Draco Malfoy to question him. They had a marriage contract. But we can't find him. He hasn't returned to his home for a few days."

"Really?" she asked, looking slightly startled. Of course, Harry noted with a wry smile, Luna always looked slightly startled.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We've been waiting outside for a day and a half."

"I just saw him today," she said calmly. Harry sat up and stared at her.

"What? Where?" he asked.

"Outside the shop," she admitted with a frown. "He was just walking down the alley, toward the Leaky Cauldron with that girl."

"What girl?" Harry asked quickly. Luna frowned at him, like she couldn't remember, or didn't know.

"I don't know," she said, frowning at him and looking disappointed at not being able to help. "She was uhm blonde."

"Did you recognize her?" Harry asked. Luna just frowned more.

"Maybe," she said. "Let me think."

"Please, Luna, anything you know may be helpful." Harry just stared at her, leaning forward on the edge of his seat. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought that Luna may know something to help with the case. That way he could give Hannah shit about being able to both go on a date and further their investigation. He let her think, the anticipation building with each passing moment until she finally spoke.

"Oh!" she gasped. "That's it! Greengrass! That Greengrass girl, that's who he was with!"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, I do appreciate it.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: My friend CrimsonKnight and Zaion Indulias for some of the beta work. Sadly, the majority of the mistakes this time, are mine.

_She hated working. Really, there wasn't anything she hated more. Well, the color orange was a possible exception. But that was a different kind of hate. That was purely because she didn't understand it. Like seriously? What was with orange? Nothing about it was attractive. Something about it was offensive. _

_That hatred, though, was starting to seem almost ironic to her._

_But she hated working more. She cursed her parents every moment of the day. And twice on moments when she sat behind the desk in the potion shop, where she measured and peddled ingredients. They'd been wealthy, her parents. But they'd spent it all staying out of prison. _

_With how little she saw them now, she'd have almost preferred they were in Azkaban. At least then she'd have their lost fortune and she wouldn't have to work._

_The nights at the shop were the worst. They just never seemed to end. No one ever came in. She couldn't understand why the owner didn't just close at five. But she was getting paid for doing next to nothing._

_And he said he'd come in that night. He came in most nights. She was amazed she liked him. Certainly her parents would never, ever, approve of him. But that didn't matter. She liked him. And his money. He wouldn't have made her work._

_She looked upwards when the door opened. Was it him? Was he early? Sometimes he'd come in and just talk to her all evening. It made the shifts pass faster. And she really wanted to see him._

_But it wasn't him. It was just a customer. She frowned. So she'd actually have to do some work that evening. It beat being fired, but not by much. She slipped out from behind the front desk and approached the customer, getting ready to ask what he wanted and prepare his order. Maybe it would make the time go faster._

Chapter 7

"What?" Harry asked, feeling rather shocked.

"You know, the tall blonde one," she said, looking a little confused.

"Yeah, she's a prosecutor at the ministry," Harry said. Luna tilted her head to the side a little bit.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "Why?"

"She never struck me as the type," Luna said with a shrug. "She's haughty and kind of a bitch. I overheard them at Flourish and Blotts one day." She blushed as she swore, and Harry got the strangest sense she wasn't very comfortable with the word.

"Draco and Daphne are together a lot?" Harry asked. He suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he couldn't get the thought of Draco's sloppy seconds out of his head.

But what did he suspect? It wasn't like he'd actually talked to Daphne during their fake-date. In fact they'd only gone out because of a flippant bet he'd made months before. There wasn't anything there at all.

Still, she'd seemed so interested in finding out what had happened to Pansy. But maybe that was all a front. He didn't know. The entire thing could have been an elaborate ruse. Maybe they'd even picked the date based on the outcome of the trial against Burick.

That was getting too far ahead of himself. He knew he shouldn't have felt betrayed. But that wasn't as easy of an emotion to shake off as he expected it to be. And he knew it was rude to not be paying attention to her.

"How would I know?" Luna asked, tilting her head to the side.

"You said you saw them," Harry sighed. She nodded.

"Yes, but it's not like I follow them around, Harry," she sighed. "And I see a lot of people in the alley."

"Oh," he said, doing his best to not sound annoyed that she wasn't being more helpful. He knew he shouldn't have expected any sort of help, but not having any sign of Draco for two days was starting to wear on him.

And it shouldn't have. He knew that. It wasn't like it was always the easiest thing to find people and question them. And if he was honest with himself, he didn't really suspect Draco. They just didn't have another lead. So he was really hoping that Draco would provide some sort of information that would help them close the case.

He paused for a moment, not quite able to believe that somehow he was relying on Draco Malfoy for the continuation of one of his cases. He and Hannah were going to have to sit down and brainstorm quite a bit if they didn't find Mr. Malfoy in a hurry.

"Why are you so interested in her?" Luna asked quietly. Harry paused and just looked at her for a moment. He noticed she'd put her silverware down and hadn't really started on their newly arrived food. He'd just been lazily picking at his.

"I'm not," Harry lied with a bright smile. Luna just tilted her head to the side so he speared a large chunk of his own dinner onto his fork and ate it. Once he swallowed he spoke again. "I'm more interested in Malfoy."

"I didn't think he was your type," Luna said quietly. But she picked up her fork and started on her food. So Harry figured that was a bit better of a situation. He bottled up any thoughts of Daphne, knowing that, at the very least, he wanted Luna to have a good evening.

"Oh I don't know, sexy and blonde is certainly my type," Harry said, tilting his head to the side and looking at Luna. She flushed a Gryffindor crimson.

"And very male. I didn't think you swung that way," Luna said quietly. She took a moment to take a sip of her wine and just look at him, her wide blue eyes giving her that perpetual surprised look he enjoyed.

"Well, you know, can't always be picky," Harry smiled, still trying to keep things light and joking. Luna just looked away from him and down at her food. She didn't say anything, but just ate quietly. It never really occurred to Harry that the last person Luna would want to joke about would be Draco Malfoy. Eventually, the silence started to bother him and he spoke up, again trying to create some sort of conversation.

"Uhm Seamus is having a party this weekend. Were you thinking of going?" Harry asked. He knew she probably got the invite. The old D.A members still used the coins to set little engagements. Typically they just lounged around and drank heavily while reminiscing about school. Harry was usually intentionally busy, but he figured he'd probably attend this one.

"I don't know," Luna said quietly. She still didn't look up at him and he just shrugged a little bit and went back to his food for a moment.

"You should. They're fun," he said without any real knowledge of if they were that fun or not. Even the ones he had attended he hadn't stuck around for very long. But he figured it was just a little white lie that wouldn't be that big of a deal in the end.

"Will you be there?" she asked.

"Probably," he nodded.

"Probably?" she asked.

"Well I was planning on it. But I never quite know what could happen at work. Barring any major catastrophe I'll be there," he said with a smile. Harry had long since learned that it was never a good idea to promise he'd be anywhere. Because he never really knew if he'd be able to make it or not.

Thankfully, most people understood. Ginny had been mildly annoyed when he'd missed a few of her early matches, especially because of how little leave they were granted at the Auror Academy. But she'd gotten over it, more or less, after a few weeks.

"Does that happen often?" She asked. He looked at her for a moment before she clarified. "The being called away at odd hours to work."

"Not really," Harry admitted. "Just when I've agreed to do something else or be somewhere else. Then it's almost a guarantee."

"Oh," she said. Harry got the strangest feeling she didn't really get, or care for, the joke. He frowned a little bit. His little lunch dates with Luna had never seemed this awkward. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when he'd arranged it, but he'd had something a bit more fun in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder just how much he'd ruined it by jumping down her throat about Daphne.

"Tell you what," he said. "You promise me you'll be there and I'll just apparate away from whatever I'm doing on Saturday and show up, regardless."

"I don't know," she frowned. "I'm not a big fan of parties."

"Me either," Harry admitted. "But it's always nice to see old friends."

"I guess," Luna said. Of course, if Harry thought about it, she wasn't really that close of friends with most of the people who would be attending. Still, he knew they'd be nice to her. They always were. Well, he assumed.

"So come on," he prodded. "It'll be fun."

"Fine," she sighed. "But I hope you're surrounded by Muggles when you have to apparate there so the only thing anyone talks about is how a lazy Harry Potter made an entire squad of Obliviators come out on a Saturday."

"Deal," Harry smiled at her.

"How was your food?" Luna asked changing the subject as she noticed that Harry's plate was empty while hers was still about half full. She'd stopped eating, though.

"Good, how's yours?" he asked, gazing down at her meal.

"Fine," she said quietly. "I don't usually eat much."

"I know," Harry laughed. She looked up at him, seeming even more surprised.

"How?" she asked.

"We go to lunch often enough, Luna. I don't think I've ever seen you finish an entire meal. Even if you just order a small salad," he teased. But the petite blond with him just frowned and shook her head a little bit.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"Oh don't be sorry," he shrugged. "Not everyone can eat like Ron." And thankfully, she giggled just a little bit as he spoke.

"That would be unattractive, I think," Luna said.

"Very," Harry said. "You are looking pretty thin, though."

"I guess," Luna responded. "I'm just never that hungry."

"Well if it works for you," he said with a little shrug. And he reached over and took her hand in his, examining it carefully across the table. She didn't seem to mind. So he caressed her fingers a little bit and looked at her.

"It does," she said quietly.

"Dessert?" Harry asked. Luna just pressed her lips together.

"Okay," she nodded. So Harry flagged down a waitress and she returned moments later with a dessert menu. Harry let go of Luna's hand to read it. She seemed slightly disappointed by that.

"Anything sticking out?" he asked. She just frowned a little bit.

"Not really," she admitted.

"Tea?" he asked. She nodded. And so they decided to just sit and sip some tea. Harry ordered an Earl Grey, Luna settled on some type of red tea Harry hadn't ever heard of. She sipped it happily, though. And Harry just watched her for a few moments in awkward silence. Although Luna didn't seem to mind. So he didn't make anything of it.

Eventually their waitress returned with the bill and Harry paid it without question. Luna was mostly just gazing at him dreamily by that point. He could have sworn she was humming something under her breath, too. But again, he didn't comment.

After finishing their tea they decided to leave.

"Apparate or walk?" Harry asked as they stepped out into the warm late summer evening.

"Walk," Luna said.

"Alright," Harry smiled. And he took her hand as they rambled, slowly, back to her home. Harry didn't say anything and Luna just hummed, at least at first. After not too long she spoke up.

"So do you really think Malfoy was involved in the Parkinson murder?" she asked. He frowned a little bit before speaking.

"I'm really not supposed to discuss details of investigations, Luna," he sighed. He felt like they'd already gone over this. But Luna was usually persistent, in her own odd sort of way.

"Oh, I know," she frowned. "I just wish he was in Azkaban…" she let her voice trail off. Harry wasn't sure if he should press the issue or not.

"Why?" he asked. He knew she'd had the opportunity to testify at his trial, but she'd passed. He'd never asked her why. But neither she nor Ollivander had appeared. The prosecuting attorney said neither had wanted to, despite being crucial witnesses present at the manor.

"Because he's not a good person," Luna said quietly. She gripped Harry's hand tighter for a moment and part of him really wanted to ask just what happened at the manor before he dropped in. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Unfortunately that's not usually enough to send someone to prison," Harry sighed. And he knew it was pretty much the perfectly incorrect thing to say. But, to his surprise, Luna just laughed quietly.

"I guess that would just make your job too easy, wouldn't it?" she asked. He laughed too.

"Yes, that would make it very easy," he said.

"Is it ever the opposite?" she asked.

"What, hard?" Harry blinked, fighting the urge to make the sex joke that came into his mind. But Luna just kept smiling at him, dreamily, and shook her head.

"No. I'm sure it's usually hard," she said without looking down. "I meant are they ever good people?"

"Sometimes," Harry admitted.

"How so?" she asked quietly.

"It can vary," Harry admitted. "It's circumstantial. Sometimes people are generally decent but in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes it's self-defense. Sometimes it's just a lapse in judgment." Harry didn't really feel like talking much more about the situation. So he stopped talking and hoped that Luna wouldn't comment on it.

"What do you do?" she asked. Harry should have known better. Luna would always comment, whether or not you wanted her to ask about it.

"My job, usually," Harry shrugged. Luna just nodded a little bit.

"Is that it, really?" she asked. She turned and looked up at him as they walked, clearly confident enough to let Harry lead the way.

"Yes," Harry admitted. "I'm not paid to make philosophical decisions while I'm on a case, Luna. Usually we're faced with a crime and we need to find out who did it. It's nice to have a why, but often we just speculate on that in order to find the who."

"So you don't really care about the people you have to find?" Luna asked.

"That's a difficult question," Harry admitted.

"Why?" Luna asked, before Harry had to chance to really think about, and answer, her previous question.

"Because I don't really think about it that way. The law, for the most part, is fairly straight forward. Thankfully in my line of work there's very little grey area. Most of the time people we're sent out to find have really violated the rules. And done so willingly. It's very rare we have to pass some sort of moral judgment."

"I see," Luna said quietly as Harry paused for air.

"So really, we find them, and we hand them over to the authorities. It's up to the barristers to deal with the semantics and the morality and all of that. Sometimes they'll ask for our opinion if they think it could help with the case. But even that is rare. Mostly, I try not to think about it too much," Harry admitted.

"Why?" Luna asked again. Harry had the strangest feeling he wasn't going to get out of this conversation any time soon.

"We're trained not to," Harry admitted. Judgment calls and passing judgment were two of the main philosophical classes at the Auror Academy. They had to learn how to think far more quickly than they'd ever had to before. And they had to learn to analyze more soundly based on observations.

He couldn't help but think back to his first year of school, when he was so sure that Snape was behind everything. Yet his Auror-trained mind would have noticed that Quirrell was there at every turn as well, and would have found that every bit as odd as Snape.

"That seems mean," Luna said and Harry felt like he hadn't gotten his point across quite as well as he'd hoped.

"It's not. It's…analytical…for lack of a better term. In the field a lot of it is reactionary. We need to be able to observe our surroundings and make split second decisions. If you're thinking about why your opponent wound up in that situation, whether he's just evil or made a series of bad choices, it may cause you to react slower and you may lose," Harry said, hoping that came out better aloud than it had in his mind. But he still wasn't sure he was answering the questions as fully as Luna would have liked. He was rather relieved, though, that he could see her home in the distance, so he didn't expect the conversation would last much longer. Unless she invited him inside.

Of course, if she invited him inside, answering her questions would be on the backburner of his thoughts. He'd be far more interested in getting her out of her outfit. She was overdressed for the evening after all.

Harry had to pause for a moment to shake that thought out of his head. Not that it was a bad thought. It was just distracting. And he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"I guess if it helps," Luna shrugged and squeezed his hand once more.

"It does," Harry said. "Part of me wishes I thought more like an Auror during my Hogwarts years. Probably would have saved me a lot of time. Although hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that," he let his voice trail off. Luna just giggled.

"You'd have just been paranoid trying to figure out who was killing you every year, like Moody," she teased.

"Yes, but something tells me I probably should have been," he smiled at her.

"Perhaps," she shrugged. "Thanks for walking me home."

"Thanks for accompanying me to dinner," he countered as they stepped up to her door. She stood there and took his other hand in hers, smiling up at him.

"I had a good time," she said.

"Me too," he responded. And she just kept looking at him with her surprised blue eyes. Harry didn't say anything, but rather just smiled back at her. And they just stood there, moments passing slowly as the blush spread up Luna's cheeks.

"Can we do this again?" she asked quietly.

"Of course," he smiled. "And I'll see you on Saturday for Seamus's party."

"Oh," she frowned. "I forgot about that."

"I better run into you there," he laughed.

"You will," she said. "Assuming you don't get called away on Auror business."

"I'll be apparating to the party regardless, remember?" he teased. She nodded a little bit and let go of his hands.

"Oh yes. In front of the Muggles."

"If need be."

"Well good night, Harry," she said quietly. Harry couldn't help but think she looked maybe a touch disappointed. But he just smiled at her and returned the farewell.

"Good night, Luna." And he waited for her to duck inside her home before he apparated away.

But he didn't apparate to his house, as he had intended. Instead he popped back into the world outside of Miss Greengrass's home. He walked up to the door, but paused outside. He wasn't really sure what else he could do. He knew he shouldn't have been there. But Luna's words had been bothering him far more than they probably should have. It would have been so much easier to just ambush her at the ministry. But he didn't want to wait. So he reached up and knocked on her door.

There was no response.

So he rang the buzzer.

Again there was no response. He kept knocking and buzzing and waiting. But there weren't any lights on in her house. And none turned on. And she didn't answer. After about twenty minutes he gave up. Purely because he didn't think that he should disrupt the neighborhood any further. Although, thankfully, no one had come to yell at him.

A very small part of him debated breaking into her home. But that would have been very rude. Not to mention illegal and would screw him if she wound up being involved in the case.

He debated waiting for her. But he couldn't sit out there all evening and expect to be a competent Auror in the morning. So instead he apparated to his home.

"Kreacher," he said immediately. He knew the elf didn't really like coming to his apartment, but it came when called.

"Master," it said, passively.

"Find me some booze," he said.

"Does master have a preference?"

"Whiskey of some sort, and a glass with some ice," Harry ordered. He walked toward his living room and by the time he sat across his couch a bottle of fire-whiskey and a glass occupied his end table. He poured the alcohol into the glass and took a deep sip. After he refilled it he let his thoughts shift back to the case.

Nothing really new came to his mind. He wondered idly if Draco returned home at all during the day, but he figured that if he had, Hannah, or whoever else was watching his home, would have sent for him.

He knew he should have gone to bed. But he wasn't tired. So he'd let the alcohol help with that. It may make rising in the morning more difficult, but it would help in the short term.

So he sipped the whiskey in his rather dark living room. Sometimes he'd stare out a window at the cityscape. But mostly he just tried to think of something useful. He didn't succeed.

So instead his thoughts shifted back to the Auror Academy. Specifically he thought of the aftermath of Oxford.

He'd showered immediately after returning to his dormitory. He'd spent far longer in the water than he would have ever normally considered. Part of him thought that maybe if he spent far too much time showering he'd annoy his roommate enough to have him come back. He knew it was silly. But he really didn't want to face the fact that even more people had died in the war he'd tried so hard to end at Hogwarts.

His only hope was that the Battle of Oxford would be the last engagement they'd have to deal with.

Eventually he focused on washing the dirt, blood, and other assorted grime from his body. It seemed to take an eternity, but soon enough he finally felt clean again. And when that moment came he stepped out of the water and took the time to towel himself off.

He brushed his teeth, purely because it seemed like the last thing to do to really make himself feel clean again. But he didn't bother with his hair. He just dried it to the point of not being annoying.

Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back into his living quarters. That really wasn't calling it much. The room held two beds, two desks and two dressers. But they had ample room, thanks to magic. As a whole, it was probably about the same size as the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts. Part of him thought he should gather up his roommates things, but that would be admitting the other man wasn't coming back. So he left them out and went to sit at his desk.

He started on a report of the battle, purely because he didn't know what else to do. Elder Aurors advised writing down as much as you could, purely to keep a record of all incidents that could then be backed up by memory evidence if necessary.

It was something that Harry wasn't sure of the advantages on. But it was much easier to share the written word than memories, so he was trying to get into the habit. He spent the better part of an hour scratching at the paper, recounting what happened in the battle. He tried to keep his opinion out of the recounting. But it was harder than he expected.

A soft rapping on his door distracted him though. For a moment, he thought it may be his roommate, but the man had a key. And Harry hadn't bothered to lock the door anyway. So he stood and walked over to it.

"Hannah?" he said, legitimately surprised as he opened the door.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked. She was only wearing a white bathrobe, her hair was still damp as well. He swallowed hard as he looked at her. One of the first rules of the academy was to not get intimate with fellow trainees. It was believed to be too distracting.

"Hadn't tried," Harry said. And he stepped away from the door, allowing her room to enter, despite his better judgment. She slipped into his room and looked at him.

"I've been rolling around for like an hour," Hannah admitted. "But I can't get the images out of my head."

"I was trying to write a report," Harry commented with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I should have probably done that," she said, frowning and looking toward his desk where the report sat.

"It's not helping," Harry sighed. "It's just making me relive it." Hannah just nodded as he finished speaking and stood, somewhat awkwardly, in the middle of his room.

"Did your roommate come back?" she asked quietly.

"Not yet," Harry said, still not quite giving up hope.

"Mine either," Hannah frowned.

"It's been a long day," Harry sighed.

"That's an understatement," Hannah responded. "I wish I could just crawl into a bathtub and soak for hours."

"Why don't you?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

"No bathtub in the dorms, just showers," Hannah said.

"Says the witch," Harry commented.

"Have you tried to magically alter anything in your room?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking slightly annoyed.

"Uh, no," Harry admitted.

"Well there's some sort of nullification charm on it. Nothing you do lasts more than a couple of seconds," Hannah explained.

"That's disappointing," Harry admitted. Frankly, it hadn't ever occurred to him to charm something in the room. They were furnished with everything they would need for daily use, and it wasn't like Harry spent a lot of time in the dormitory, anyway. He was pretty much only there to sleep and shower.

"Very," She said, taking a step closer to him in the room. They still were just standing around and it was slightly awkward. Harry looked at her and then just swallowed hard.

"I just noticed something," he said quietly.

"What's that?" she asked, looking up at him.

"You're only wearing a bathrobe," he said.

"And you're only wearing a towel," she commented. He frowned and realized he should have probably gotten dressed. What was he thinking just sitting around in a towel? But he really hadn't expected anyone to come knocking.

And, while he was busy scolding himself about his lack of attire, he didn't notice that she closed the gap between them. At least until her lips were pressing against his. He kissed her back, more out of instinct than anything else. But he caught himself, after a moment.

"Hannah," he said, stepping back. She'd wrapped her arms around him and held him even as he moved away.

"Harry," she said quietly, just staring up at him, her eyes almost begging him to step back toward her.

"I'm with Ginny," he said quietly. He knew he should have sounded a bit more sure of himself as he said it. But at least he got the words out. To his surprise, though, Hannah just shrugged her shoulders.

"And I'm with Ernie," she countered. He vaguely remembered something to that effect. And then she kissed him again.

"So we shouldn't do this," Harry said, slipping his lips away from hers.

"Probably not," she admitted, tracing her lips across his neck.

"Hannah," he said, thinking of nothing to do that would dissuade her. But his problem lay more in the fact that he didn't really want to dissuade her.

"Shush, Harry. I don't know about you, but I really need a reason to stay. Every part of me wants to leave and never come back. But we're going to need Aurors," she paused and took his hands. Before he realized it they were resting on the front of her robe, where it tied around her body. "And I need someone to hold me right now. And to love me. And we're both adults. And I'm certainly not going to tell anyone. So it's up to you, Harry."

So Harry found himself staring down at Hannah Abbott. Her blonde hair was still damp and a mess, her blue eyes were locked on his, and he knew that all he had to do to have her naked and make her his was pull slightly on the loose tie of her bathrobe.

But he hesitated. It was wrong. He didn't want to cheat on Ginny. She didn't deserve that. He could picture her still waiting for him at school. She'd been so supportive with his Auror training, too.

Still, she was so far away. And he felt much the same way Hannah described. And suddenly the decision seemed so easy. He gave her robe a tug and moved her to his bed.

After, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling in his dark dormitory. Hannah was wedged into the crook of his arm. She didn't say anything. He suspected she was sleeping. For a moment, he felt completely off. Like everything was wrong and he'd just made a gigantic mistake.

But it had been so wonderful. And he felt much better, at least physically, than he had earlier in the evening. He shifted slightly in the bed, attempting to get a little more comfortable. Hannah let out a soft noise and spoke.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked, her voice trailing off in the darkness. Harry paused and thought. He did want her to leave. Having her there just enforced everything they'd done. And everything that he knew was wrong.

But she felt so nice cuddled up next to him. Her body was so warm and so soft. And he knew he certainly didn't want her anywhere else at that time. If he was honest, though, his answer really did surprise him a little.

"No," he said. "That's alright. Sorry, arm was just falling asleep."

"Oh," she sighed and rolled onto her side, her back to him. "Spoon me?"

"Okay," Harry said and obeyed. Moments later he was asleep.

Even years later he had a hard time really quantifying his relationship with Hannah Abbot. After Oxford they'd spent another two months finishing their training at the Auror Academy. It was probably excessive at that point, but since there were so few members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, former trainees found themselves instructing the newest of recruits.

Both Harry and Hannah were happy to help out.

Everything changed, though. Neither of their roommates returned. His was found dead the next morning during the cleanup efforts in Oxford. Her was injured and then just went home.

But they hadn't stayed alone for long. She came to his dormitory every evening. And they'd talk about everything. Really everything. Just about any topic came up at some point. A lot of it was reminiscing about friends and school. But some of it was talking of the future and their interests. They'd finish every evening in one another's arms and the started every morning the same way.

Harry paused for a moment, remembering those nights at the Academy. In his mind, every moment had certainly been worth it. He poured himself more whiskey and went back to staring outside.

Things changed when they matriculated. They hadn't been that shocked they'd been assigned as partners. They'd worked very well out of the chute and had the closest thing to seniority.

As they moved back to their own homes they really only saw each other at work. They decided, without really saying anything to each other, that they needed to be more professional. So they didn't touch. And it worked very well. At least until they went off to Birmingham.

Harry had never seen Hannah as distraught by a case as when they spent a month looking for Burick. He knew she wasn't going to let him get away, even if they couldn't find any evidence of who was actually committing the crimes.

At some point they'd decided to just get a hotel in Birmingham. It was easier than apparating in and out every day, and they could spend their evenings going over the case. One night, late, she'd crawled into his bed and it was like they were back at the Academy. By that point, he'd recently broken things off with Ginny, but she was still with Ernie.

They didn't talk about that, though. And Harry had to admit, he was almost disappointed when they caught Burick.

And then she'd broken up with Ernie. He'd thrown a punch at her. Harry never asked what they'd argued about. He didn't think it was any of his business. But deep down he was pretty sure he knew.

Her options had been staying with her parents or intruding upon Susan Bones. So he'd told her he had a spare room at his apartment. She never saw it.

She'd spent five days with him in the master bedroom before finding her own place. But now it was back to the normal, professional relationship. They never really talked about the things they did. Sometimes, in private, something got referenced, but that was it.

His fire roaring pulled him back to reality.

"Potter, you awake?" her voice rang out through his apartment. He nodded a bit, stood, and walked over to the fireplace.

"Yes, What's up, Hannah? I was just thinking about you..." he let his voice trail off.

"Fun," she said dryly. She must have noticed the glass in his hand, too. "Are you drunk?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "Come over?"

"Harry…" She looked as surprised as he felt that he'd asked. They both knew exactly what he was asking, too.

"Please?"

"Harry…"

"Hannah, please?" he asked again. He saw her fiery face press its lips together for a moment.

"This weekend?" she asked. And it was a better answer than he suspected. He was surprised he'd even worked up the courage to ask.

"Okay," he said.

"Now you know that park on Crown?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Meet me there as soon as you can. We've got another one." Her words sobered him up immediately. He nodded and started checking his pockets, making sure he had both wands and his department credentials.

"I'll be there in a few."

Author's Note: I'm, once again, looking for another beta to look over this story. PM me if you're interested. Chapters 8 is complete and I just need to edit it, but since I'd rather finish up chapter 9, which is about half done, I'll probably hope my betas respond with it at some point. I just got sick of sitting on seven.

Thanks for reading. As always the best way to contact me is through PM on the site.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making nothing that even resembles a prophet.

Acknowledgments: Zaion Indulias for the beta work here.

Chapter 8

"What do we have?" Harry asked as he walked up into the park. It wasn't the same park where they'd found Pansy, but it may as well have been. This one was perhaps a little smaller, and in a more residential area, and there was a bit of a crowd gathering around. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a few police officers approaching him. He slid his hand toward his department credentials and kept walking toward the scene.

"Inspector Potter," Gary the squib said from off to the side. The elder man's words stopped the other officers from impeding him. Harry hadn't even really looked at them. He was simply approaching the scene and wondering just exactly where Hannah was. He caught a glimpse of her blonde hair over near what he assumed was the body. So he moved that way.

"Harry," Hannah said, turning to look at him at almost that exact moment. She must have heard Gary speak. He smiled at her and wondered to himself if anyone had heard him speak or if he was going to have to ask about the situation again.

"Hannah," he responded, stepping over toward her. She looked exhausted. He suspected she'd been at Malfoy's the entire day. He wondered who'd given her the tip to be in this park.

"You look nice," she sighed. He was still dressed in the same outfit he'd taken Luna out in that evening. He just shrugged a little bit, not sure if his appearance mattered at that time. Or if he really cared. But either way it always felt nice to be complimented.

"You look tired," he countered, not caring that he wasn't complimenting her.

"That tends to happen after one works for an entire day," she deadpanned.

"I imagine," he countered. "Now what's going on here?"

"Another body," Hannah said, gesturing to it. Harry wandered over and gazed down at the female. He recognized her, but not by name. He didn't see, or sense, anything unusual about this body. But much like Pansy, he couldn't see anything that actually should have killed her.

In fact, she still looked pretty much pristine. And, also unlike Pansy, she still appeared to be entirely clothed.

"I don't know her," Harry admitted. "Any bag or possessions of any kind?"

"Not here no," Hannah said.

"Who called you in on it?" Harry asked. He kneeled next to the body for a moment, tilting his head to the side and examining it. Trying his best to sense any sort of leftover magic in the body. There was a faint trace of something he didn't recognize. But, despite that, nothing about it seemed malevolent.

"Just standard dispatch. Received a notice about another Jane Doe being reported in a park. Figured it sounded familiar enough so I popped by to check it out. Called you after I got here," Hannah said.

"You think they're connected?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Hannah admitted. "But it seemed a little too similar to ignore, don't you think?"

"I do," Harry nodded his approval. "Do you recognize her?"

"Gemma Farley," Hannah said quietly. "Slytherin. Prefect. She was two years older than us."

"Wasn't she head girl in our fifth year?" Harry asked as Hannah mentioning the name jogged part of his memory.

"May have been," Hannah shrugged. "No one really paid attention to that after Umbridge's whole squad thing came about. I don't remember her being involved with them."

"I just remember Draco," Harry frowned. The mentioning of Draco's name brought forth all sorts of thoughts he'd rather not have yet. So he did his best to ignore them. But Hannah seemed to pick up on it regardless.

"He didn't come home," she commented.

"Figures," Harry said. He wondered when the best time to tell her about what Luna mentioned would be. But rather than think about that for too long he just went back to examining the body.

"Yes, it does," she commented. "You getting anything there?"

"Little bit of something I can't place," Harry admitted. "But nothing that seems like it would have killed her. Something grooming related if I had to guess. Was her hair always that color?"

"Yes," Hannah said. "At least as far as I remember."

"Me too, what are we going to do with this one?" Harry asked. Hannah frowned a little bit.

"I still haven't gotten the magical forensics from Pansy yet," Hannah sighed. "They said it would be ready tomorrow, well this morning, I guess now."

"So let the Muggles take this one so we can catch up?" he asked.

"No," Hannah sighed. "They won't find anything. I've already called for some Oblivators.

"They give you an ETA?" he asked. He stood back up and moved over toward his partner.

"Ten minutes. So they should be here momentarily," she said. Harry noticed there were still a fair amount of Muggles milling around. Mostly the Muggle officers kept them away from the crime scene.

"Anything in the surrounding area?" he asked.

"No," Hannah said. "That really threw the Muggles, too. They kept trying to see if there were any tracks or disturbances or anything. But there aren't. I think one of them assumed the body was thrown from the road."

"Long throw," Harry chuckled gazing over toward the nearest street.

"Very," Hannah responded dryly.

"So apparated and dropped?" Harry asked. "We'd have probably seen evidence of a Portkey. Unless it's like her ring or necklace or something."

"But we'd have sensed those if that was the case. There's always more residual left over with a Portkey than an apparation" she responded. "So yes, I lean toward an apparate and drop."

"Which is the closest thing we can think of with Pansy, too," Harry sighed.

"Yes," Hannah yawned, not bothering to do more than agree with him.

"Where's the nearest apparition point?" Harry asked. He had an idea. Hannah just shook her head though.

"There's a ministry entrance just around the corner. There's a point on Crown and Walton," she said, naming nearby streets. Harry frowned. That was too close for the ministry to really be able to effectively determine if someone apparated into the park, or to the nearby point.

"So we probably can't have them give up the apparations and expect to come up with anything useful," Harry frowned.

"Probably not," Hannah agreed.

"But it's still the best we have to go on. I'll have some people in Transportation give me a list on just the two parks. We'll see if anything comes of it," Harry said. He was reasonably surprised the idea hadn't occurred to him before this. It wasn't the best bit of evidence they had yet. And he suspected that Transportation would drag its feet and take forever to get him the information, but it was still the best bit they'd had this side of Draco Malfoy.

"Maybe we'll get a lead out of it," Hannah yawned once more.

"You want to go home?" he asked her. He didn't look at her though, instead his eyes focused on the small crowd. He was debating if he should start charming them away or not. His hand slipped over holly and phoenix feather in his pocket. Typically they waited for the Oblivatiors.

"What?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. Harry suspected she misunderstood his meaning. He smirked a little bit and resisted the urge to joke with her.

"You look exhausted," he said, reiterating his earlier point. "I can handle it till the Oblivators show if you'd like to head home and get some sleep."

"I'm good," she yawned. And he just nodded a little bit. He knew better than to argue with her. Although he suspected she wouldn't last through going into the office and formulating the required report on the incident.

"Alright," he responded. "Do we know anything about Miss Farley?"

"No. At least not post-Hogwarts. I vaguely remember hearing the family name in the news for some reason or another. But Farley isn't that uncommon of a name. So I have no idea if they were related," Hannah said. Harry thought about it for a moment.

"They weren't Death Eaters," Harry said, vaguely recalling the Farley's that Hannah was referring to. "At least not that we could ever prove. They funneled a lot of money to Voldemort during the war. I believe they pretty much bankrupted themselves during the trials that followed."

"Stayed out of prison, though?" Hannah asked.

"I think so. I think the father actually got a few years, but ended up not having to serve the term for one reason or another. I don't know. I didn't follow the case as closely as I probably should have."

"I didn't follow it at all. So you have me beat there," Hannah yawned. Harry laughed and debated hitting her on the shoulder like she did every time he yawned. But he figured it was probably best not to.

"Yeah, well, we'll have to look into what Gemma found herself doing then," Harry sighed. A moment later he heard a familiar, faint, popping sound behind him. He turned more quickly than was really required. Hannah did as well. And she was the first to speak.

"I wonder how much more work they have to do because they refuse to not wear robes. And just apparate wherever they want?" she asked quietly. Harry chucked under his breath and stared at the Oblivators. A few people were looking at them oddly. They just walked right up to Harry and Hannah.

"Abbott, Potter," the lead one said. He didn't even bother calling them by their department ranks. That should have probably annoyed Harry, but he didn't bother to think too hard about it. Instead he just nodded toward the lead Oblivator.

"Jenkins," Harry said to the lead Oblivator.

"What do you need us to do?" he asked. Harry just nodded to Hannah.

"We need you to clear this up," she said gesturing to everyone around her. "Take the body to forensics, and make sure none of the Muggles remember anything about it."

"Alright, anything else?" he asked. The Oblivator looked bored, tired, and rather annoyed that he was sent out this late at night. Harry shook his head and wondered why he just didn't take care of all the magic himself. He certainly knew he was able. But the Ministry frowned upon taking things into your own hands when there were people assigned to do that job.

"The older Muggle cop is a squib. Don't wipe his memory," Hannah sighed. "Other than that I think that will take care of everything."

"Alright," Jenkins said. And without another word he stepped away from the two Aurors and took out his wand. Harry and Hannah backed away and let the crew of four blue-robed Oblivators do their jobs. Harry noticed that Gary slipped away from the other officers and worked his way over to them.

"And what should I tell my boys," he sighed. It wasn't a question Harry was accustomed to. Usually they would just leave at this point in the investigation. Assuming the surrounding area was clear of evidence. He never really thought about what the Muggle police did after the Oblivators showed up.

"That the body was taken away flawlessly and to continue doing their jobs?" Harry asked, hoping it didn't sound as mean aloud as it had in his head.

"Because they won't have any questions about that," Gary responded sarcastically. He shook his head and looked like he wanted to say more. But he didn't. The Oblivators had finished with the Muggle police and Gary moved over toward them as three of the Oblivators moved on to the crowd.

Harry watched as the fourth created a shell around the body, arranging for it to be transported. They did their best to touch the body as little as possible, with both magic and their hands. But they would formulate a list of spells used for transportation and that would help Forensics rule out certain causes. At least that's what they told Harry and Hannah. And the two Aurors weren't in any position to argue.

Of course, Hannah was close to switching to that field. He hadn't brought it up lately, but he knew she was planning on stopping Auror work for a while to switch to a Medical school and then switch her specialty to forensics. But thinking about that only made him wonder how much a new partner would annoy him.

"Gary seems annoyed," Hannah said as Harry watched the body disappear. Already the Muggles were starting to disperse. Most of them looked just a little bit dazed and confused. He just shrugged and watched them go.

"A little," Harry said. "I guess it can be a bit trying."

"You don't seem to care one way or the other," Hannah said.

"Not at the moment," Harry agreed. "I'll go in to file the report."

"Want me to join you?" Hannah responded. "I was on the scene first. I should probably write the start of it.

"I got the gist of it," Harry said. "I can fill in where needed."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said, checking his watch. "And it's like two in the morning. So it seems like we're going to have a long day. And probably an annoyingly long weekend. So go get some sleep and I'll see you at the office at eight."

"Alright Harry," she said. "Thanks."

"No problem, Hannah," he responded as Hannah turned to walk toward the apparation point just down the way. Unlike him, she was a good enough ministry employee to at least attempt to follow the rules. Harry turned his gaze from her and focused on the Oblivators. They were finishing up and leaving as well. Harry just watched them go.

When, finally, he was the last one in the park he took a slow turn around it. He didn't see anything worth investigating, so he walked, slowly, toward the apparation point. His only thought was that his not apparating out of the park better lower the murder candidates when he submitted the request to the people in Transportation.

He was into the office well before eight the next morning. Despite stopping back there the night before and filing away a report on the incident. He wasn't particularly sure why he bothered with the report that evening. But it was procedural, and it came easily enough. So he did it.

After he'd finished with the report he took the floo home. He only really had time for a short nap and a quick shower before he had to return to work, but every little bit helped. All too soon he found himself back at his desk in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He started on the request for the apparation data for the Department of Magical Transportation. It was an annoying amount of paperwork. But he was diligent, and he got it done fairly quickly. After, he walked to the office. There wasn't anyone there yet, so he waited.

Mrs. Edgecombe was the current head of the department. And he wanted to submit the request to her. But any member of the department would work for now. He leaned against the wall and pretty much dozed off until he heard someone speak.

"Harry?" Hermione Granger said. She was dressed nicely, in a black skirt and top. Obviously she didn't subscribe to casual Friday.

"Hermione," Harry said. "What are you doing with Transportation?"

"Helping out today. They need a hand with the improvements were trying to make on the Floo network."

"Improvements on the Floo network?" Harry asked.

"In a sense. We're working on non-verbal ways of floo travel. So some people don't accidentally sneeze and mispronounce where they're going."

"Haha," Harry responded dryly. But Hermione just smiled at him.

"Do you need something?" she asked.

"I need to submit a request for the apparation information on a couple of locations," he said, he held up the paperwork.

"That's going to be a pain to track," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"I know, can you make sure it gets into the right hands for me?" he offered her the parchment.

"Of course, Harry," she said.

"Thanks Hermione," he said. He leaned off of the wall and started to leave before a thought occurred to him. "Are you and Ron free for lunch?"

"Probably. When?" Hermione admitted. Harry knew it was a silly question. Ron could be free whenever he wanted to be free. It was one of the perks of essentially being the boss. Hermione had a much stricter schedule. As did Harry.

"Today?" Harry asked. He was planning on bailing a bit earlier in the afternoon. It had been a long week, after all. He knew he should focus more on the investigation. But he was tired. He suspected he and Hannah would delegate some of it to younger Aurors. The perks of seniority were very handy.

"Probably not today. I have no idea how long this is going to take. Can we shoot for this weekend?" She asked. "Saturday would be good."

"I'm probably free then. Floo me in the morning?" he asked.

"Okay," Hermione said. And Harry did leave then.

Hannah was waiting for him, with tea, by the time he got back to the Auror office. It was nearly eight o'clock. Dawlish had arrived, but there weren't many other Aurors in that Friday morning. She offered him a cup and he took it.

"Thanks," he said.

"Welcome," she yawned. He glared at her and then couldn't help himself. A moment later he yawned. A moment after that she yawned, and hit him, for yawning. So he sipped his tea and looked away from her.

"Sleep well?" he laughed. She just shook her head.

"No," she said. "I'm going to go look up anything we've got on Miss Farley."

"I'll see if Dawlish had any more special packages," Harry said. Hannah nodded at him and they split up for the moment. Harry's conversation with Dawlish was very brief. The elder Auror didn't really feel like talking. And so Harry just got to the point and found out that no one had stopped by his home the previous evening. No possessions were left on his doorstep. And he had no extra clues about the current death.

It didn't really matter to Harry. He still thought the cases were similar enough that they were likely linked. He moved back to their cubicles and found Hannah.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Dawlish is a dick that doesn't deserve his job?" Harry said. Hannah didn't even bother laughing.

"Anything helpful?" she amended.

"No. How about you?" Harry asked.

"Judging from Miss Farley's tax records she's employed at the apothecary in Diagon Alley. The same apothecary is reporting that their store was unlocked this morning. They can't find anything missing but would like someone to look around."

"We've been lowered to answering calls about unlocked shops?" Harry laughed.

"No. Singh was going to be dispatched when he reported in," Hannah said. Singh was the most junior Auror in the department. His partner was out on vacation for the weekend, so he'd have probably spent the day mostly on desk duty. It would have been a way to kill a few hours of his time without any real danger.

"We'll take it, though, I assume?" Harry said. She nodded at him.

"Yes, I told them we'd be there as soon as we could."

"Did you mention Gemma?" Harry asked.

"No. They didn't either. And dispatch contacted us, not them directly."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well I've got one more thing I want to check out first. It may take a bit."

"What's that?" Hannah asked as Harry started to exit the department. Hannah followed him.

"Luna told me she often saw Daphne with Draco in the alley," he said. "I figured we'd pay a friendly visit to Miss Greengrass and see if she knows anything."

"Really?" Hannah asked, sounding a little bit shocked by that.

"Yeah. Luna did not have a favorable opinion of her either. But it was all hearsay," Harry said. Hannah just yawned again and shrugged.

"Well I guess it can't hurt," she said. And they walked in silence to the law offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Can I help you?" an older attorney asked as they entered. The office was pretty barren.

"We're looking for Miss Greengrass," Hannah said, taking the lead from Harry.

"She's not here," the attorney said.

"When is she expected in?" Harry asked. The attorney just looked annoyed.

"I don't know," he said, sounding rather annoyed. "Ask the receptionist." He nodded down a little bit from the entry where a young girl that Harry vaguely recognized was answering a floo call. So they walked down toward her and asked her the same questions once she was off the call.

"Oh, uhm, Daphne?" the girl asked. Harry suspected she was a few years younger than them. But Harry couldn't remember her name.

"Yes," he said. "We needed to ask her a few questions."

"She's not in," the girl said.

"We can see that," Hannah smiled. "When does she usually get in?"

"Around nine," the girl answered. "But she won't be in today. She took yesterday and today off. Requested it about a month ago. She'll be back in on Monday."

"I see," Hannah said. Harry wanted to ask more questions but his partner spoke before he could. "Well thanks, we'll be going."

"Should we have just left?" Harry asked when they were out of earshot.

"She's not going to know anything," Hannah said.

"It's suspicious that she's gone though," Harry said.

"She didn't bring up any upcoming days off with you on your date?" Hannah asked.

"No," Harry said. "And then a murder winds up on one of them."

"Yes, it's odd," Hannah agreed. "But not much we can do about it unless you want to try her house."

"I did last night," Harry frowned. "But it may be a better option during the day."

"Perhaps. But I say we watch for Draco and hope for the best right now. He's got to come home at some point."

"Probably wise," Harry sighed. "I don't like it."

"Me either. But we should go to apothecary," Hannah said. "I'm too tired to think too hard about it right now. Let's focus back in the afternoon?"

"Okay," Harry said. "See you in the alley." And he apparated there with a loud pop.

He always apparated to just outside the Leaky Cauldron when going to Diagon Alley. He didn't really have a reason for that. It just was what he did. Part of him suspected it was purely because he enjoyed waking through the alley. Being there always reminded him that he was really part of a complex magical world, and not made him remember how unimportant the Dursley's were at this point in his life.

He couldn't blame his apparation preferences on the newly imposed apparation points, either, purely because just about every small alley in Diagon Alley had its own apparation point. Tracking magical travel in the area was nearly impossible, but the folks in charge of that did their due diligence as best they could. Hannah showed up moments later at his side. She immediately frowned.

"You beat me somewhere," she scoffed.

"Sorry, I'll try not to let it happen again," Harry replied.

"You better not," she said and started walking off toward the apothecary.

"So you're really not concerned if Daphne was with Draco?" Harry asked. Hannah just shrugged a bit.

"I know Daphne," she said. "And she's not going to be involved in this in any meaningful way. She's a stickler for the law. She's one of the only attorneys that wants to reopen cases of repentant Death Eaters and actually form a decent case against them, rather than just letting them cry in court and go."

"So she could think they have what's coming to them," Harry said. He was a little surprised by Hannah's comment. Even he didn't see the point in reopening the cases at this point. After so long it really just became a witch-hunt. Not that he hadn't been on the wrong end of that before. But it was a lot of resources for little actual societal improvement.

"And she killed one of her closest friends as her first victim?" Hannah asked.

"Hey, they often know the killers," Harry commented.

"You're just not about to let this one go, are you?" Hannah asked.

"I'm going to follow every lead we get," Harry said.

"And I'm not advising you against that. But I don't find it pressing," Hannah said.

"Why not?"

"Did Luna give you a date that she saw them on?" Hannah asked.

"No," Harry admitted.

"So it could have been months ago. Perhaps they just ran into each other in the alley and caught up for a bit," Hannah said.

"She said she saw them more than once," Harry countered.

"But still no time frame," Hannah said. "Which leads me to my next question. Why does it bother you so much if Draco was with Daphne? You're not the type to harp on one aspect of a case so much."

"We don't have anything else to go on," Harry defended himself. But he frowned a little bit and hoped Hannah didn't notice. She was right. It was sticking out in his mind a little bit more than it probably should have.

"Sure we do. I can't fault using it as maybe finding a lead on Malfoy. But wanting to press the issue with the receptionist was a bit out there," Hannah said. "Especially if we know she'll be there by Monday." Harry frowned and crossed his arms. He knew Hannah had a point. They were always taught subtly. Now the receptionist would likely relay how strange the pair had been acting to Daphne, and she'd have her guard up more than if they'd just stopped back in on Monday.

"I guess you have a point," Harry said. He didn't want to admit that he really didn't want Daphne to have anything to do with Draco for more personal reasons than he should have allowed.

"I might," Hannah said as they approached the apothecary. "Or I might just not like you having another female on the forefront of your thoughts." And with that quip she stepped into the potions shop. Harry paused for a moment before following her in.

"Good morning, Mr. Slugs," Hannah said as she walked in. Harry's first thought was that the apothecary owner had a very unfortunate surname.

"Ah, are you the Aurors?" Mr. Slugs asked. Harry just stood behind Hannah and gave him a bit of a patronizing look. But the man did look older. And Harry suspected his vision wasn't good enough to pick out the scar.

"Yes sir," Hannah said. "I'm Hannah Abbott and this is my partner Harry Potter." Mr. Slugs gasped.

"Ella! Come here! It's Harry Potter!" he yelled. Harry rolled his eyes as an older woman walked in and gasped.

"Mr. Potter!" she smiled. "You probably don't remember, but I sold you your first potions supplies!"

"I do," Harry lied. "Hagrid told me to always come here for whatever I needed."

"I should thank him for that! Do you do much brewing now!" Ella exclaimed. Harry suspected that she didn't have a clue who Hagrid was, but he didn't feel like pressing the issue.

"Not often, no," Harry admitted. The potions grade had been pretty much for show in actual Auror work. Well, knowing what potions did by name helped when reading forensics reports. But that was about it.

"That's a shame. Make sure to let us know if you ever need anything," Ella Slugs said. Harry nodded a bit.

"Thank you, I will," he said.

"Now we understand you had some theft concerns," Hannah said, trying to sound casual.

"Yes," Mr. Slugs said, seeming to remember why there were two Aurors in his shop. "When we came in this morning the door was ajar."

"Anything appear to be out of place?" Harry asked.

"I was just finishing up the inventory. But no, nothing appears to be missing. If you wouldn't mind taking a look around though we'd appreciate it," Mrs. Slugs said.

"I'll do that while you finish up the inventory," Hannah smiled and the two women disappeared into the back of the shop.

"Do you or your wife typically work the night shift?" Harry asked.

"Neither of us," he admitted. "We have two girls that split the time. Last night Gemma was here. She left her bag, but she does that all the time. She's supposed to be back in at one."

"Have you tried to contact her?" Harry asked, although he suspected he knew the answer.

"Yes, of course. It's not like her to just leave the door open or anything. She hates working, but she does her job well," Mr. Slugs said.

"Hates working?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Slugs responded. "She hated the fact that she needed the job. She tried to hide it, but it was obvious. Still, she would do what we asked and was willing to put in a lot of hours if we needed it."

"And you haven't heard from her?" Harry asked. It was a faint hope, but perhaps they had some odd message.

"No, why?" Mr. Slugs asked.

"Gemma Farley was found dead last night," Harry said coldly. "It's one of the only reasons we responded to a possible theft at her place of work."

"Oh God," Mr. Slugs gasped. "How?"

"We don't know," Harry answered. "We're gathering information at this point while we wait on forensics."

"I…I…is there anything I can do to help?" Mr. Slugs asked. He seemed to be looking for his balance, his hands resting on the nearby counter. After a moment he slipped behind it and sat down.

"You said she left her bag? Where is it?" Harry asked.

"Just under the desk here," he said and reached for it.

"I'll levitate it out later. Don't touch it for now," Harry said. The older man nodded and Harry continued. "Can you tell me anything about her? Any unusual habit or anything strange of late?"

"I, no, Ella may know more," he said. "She didn't really talk with us much, outside of a professional capacity. Gemma wasn't the friendliest sort. When we hired her we thought for sure she'd wind up annoying too many customers. But she could plaster on the fake smile just as well as anyone I'd ever seen."

"Any habits?"

"I don't know," Mr. Slugs said. "I recall her stopping by the joke shop a lot after paydays. I never asked what she'd buy."

"Daydream potions," Ella Slugs spoke up as she reentered the room. "I scolded her once when I saw her with them in the shop. But I don't think she uses them on her shifts. Why does that matter?"

"Gemma is dead, Ella," Mr. Slugs said quietly.

"No," Ella's face fell. Harry looked away. He hated this part of the job. It was so rare they ever had good news. Ella Slugs rushed to her husband as she started to cry. Hannah stepped over toward Harry's side.

"Anything out of place?" he asked quietly.

"No," Hannah said. "Everything is accounted for and unenchanted."

"So no robbery motivation," Harry said.

"Unless they bailed after Gemma put up a fight," Hannah commented.

"There'd be more signs of a struggle," Harry countered.

"Probably," Hannah admitted.

"What can we do to help?" Ella Slugs asked, turning back to the Aurors. She had her tears under control, for the most part.

"We're just trying to collect information," Harry reiterated. "Your husband already answered my preliminary questions. If you have anything to add about her, it would be appreciated."

"I know she often had a friend come in during her nights on the late shift. I saw them together once," Ella said quietly. "But they would just talk. And she'd go about her work as normal if a customer came in."

"What can you tell us about her friend?" Hannah asked.

"Not much. Perhaps a head taller than she was. I think he had lighter hair, but I didn't get that good of a look at him," Ella responded.

"Anything else?" Harry asked.

"Not that I can think of, I'm sorry," Ella said quietly, the tears starting anew.

"That's plenty," Hannah said. "If you can think of anything else please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"We will," Mr. Slugs said.

"You'll be taking her bag?" Mrs. Slugs asked.

"Yes," Harry said. He walked behind the desk and took out his wand. He levitated it out and did a quick diagnostic on it. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about it. It was only charmed for capacity and weight. He took it in his hand and opened it, it was almost empty.

"Thank you for your time," Hannah said.

"No, thank you two for coming," Mr. Slugs said. Hannah just nodded at him as she and Harry left. Harry walked over toward a deserted bench and started to look through the bag.

"So," Hannah said as she joined him. "Friends with a tall blonde."

"Are you implying something?" Harry asked.

"We're looking for a tall blonde," Hannah commented.

"I'm sitting next to a tall blonde," Harry deadpanned. Hannah rolled her eyes. But at least she'd voiced his same concern. He felt that if he'd brought it up she'd accuse him of wanting to see the case a certain way. After a moment of silence he closed the bag and prepared to send it back to the department.

"Anything of use in there?"

"Her wand," Harry said. He glanced down toward Ollivander's, but figured they'd just leave a note and delegate the exact identification and informing of the parents to someone else as they worked on the case. After all, he had no reason to doubt the Slugs's claim. "And a receipt."

"A receipt?" she asked.

"A receipt," Harry said, gazing down the alley toward the shop where it originated from. It wasn't nearly as good of a clue as he'd like. In fact, it was dated about a week and a half earlier, but he didn't have anything else to go with. So it was back to just asking questions and seeing what arose.

Author's note: Chapter 9 is done and just waiting for beta response at this point. I'd expect it to be released next week. I'm still willing to add an additional beta for my works. Contact me via PM if it's something you'd be interested in. A PM is, generally, the best way to reach me and get a response, I do try to respond to all of them.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing, I do appreciate it.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Goldrune09 and Zaion Indulias for the beta work on this chapter.

Chapter 9

The joke shop was its usual buzz of activity. Harry was still secretly amazed at how much business the shop managed on a daily basis. But there was always something going on. Whether it was some type of product demonstration or some other type of event, they'd done a good job at keeping the interest level high.

And, Harry had to admit, the fact that a large chunk of the store appealed to children under eleven probably had a lot to do with the continued business. Store attendants were more than willing to watch over younger children while their parents took care of whatever business they had in the alley.

Just like most mornings it was still a buzz of activity. Children ran around without much supervision. But there were a few girls working that appeared to be attempting to monitor things. Although in Harry's professional opinion, they weren't doing that fantastic of a job.

He watched two boys run past. They were playing with some type of toy wand that appeared to fire very weak stunning spells. Judging from the giggles when someone was hit, the affect couldn't have been much more than a few moments of numbness.

Harry stepped away from a stray spell as he made his way toward the desk. But a flash of brilliant white light caused him to turn around.

Hannah had her wand out and was already lecturing the two boys. He suspected she could have avoided the spell easily enough. But it was more awe-inspiring to use a fully powered shielding spell to block the attack. Certainly Harry suspected that by the time she was done lecturing the boys, they wouldn't ever think about shooting stray spells off in crowded areas.

Harry ducked around a table of new products. He was tempted to grab some of them, as they looked interesting, but he didn't. He was allowed to take pretty much anything from the store without paying, if he liked. But it wasn't something he ever really took advantage of.

He'd never grabbed anything more than a pouch of Peruvian Instant Darkness powder that he'd used on a case a couple years back. And even then, he'd argued with the clerk, trying to pay for it, until George came out and told him to just take it or he'd hex him.

Harry had avoided commenting that there was no way George could actually hit him with a spell, unless Harry allowed it. But that was one of the perks of spending nearly a year to become a fully trained Auror. You got very, very quick on the draw.

"Where's Ron?" he asked as he approached the counter. The clerk, a girl that Harry vaguely recognized who'd worked there forever, looked away from the customer she was helping and gave him a quick smile.

"Oh. Hi Mr. Potter. He's in his office," she said, nodding toward the staircase that dominated the center of the shop.

"Thanks," Harry said and walked over to the staircase. He assumed that was where Ron would be. But it seemed polite to ask rather than just trudge up the stairs. He caught Hannah's eye on his way up and knew she'd follow him in a few moments. Of course, she could have figured out where Ron was just as easily as he had. Or she could have just used the charm all Aurors used on their partners to sense their location while on duty.

The offices of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes shop where on the third floor, and they were completely different than the two floors below them. There was much less clutter in the business zone. And silencing charms took care of the music and general noise mayhem. George's office was at the top of the stairs. The door to it was closed and the lights were off. But Harry knew George didn't come into the office much. He preferred to spend his time in the separate facilities they had for testing products, or at home.

And he couldn't really blame him. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to work in a place that held such significance to someone who'd been so important to him. Hell, he didn't live in Grimmauld place purely because it reminded him of Sirius. And he barely knew his Godfather.

He walked down the hall toward Ron's office. The door was open and he saw his friend sitting at his desk, reading the sports section of the Daily Prophet. So Harry just walked into his office. Ron folded the paper down to look at him for a moment, before going back to whatever he was reading.

"Hey, Mate," he said as Harry entered.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, pulling out a chair from the opposite side of Ron's desk and sitting down.

"Chudley lost again," He sighed. "And they even managed to catch the snitch this time."

"Ouch," Harry said. "Who were they playing?"

"The wasps," Ron commented before he folded the paper in half and placed it on his desk. "How's life?"

"Good," Harry said. He hadn't really thought of any questions to ask Ron. And he didn't really think that he'd get any information from this. So he figured he'd start by just talking, at least until Hannah came up to the third floor.

"Work good?" Ron asked.

"Yes. It's been a bit slow," Harry lied. He found people were less likely to ask about his cases if he made it seem like he wasn't really working on anything.

"I suspect that's good in the Auror business," Ron said dryly. It wasn't as much of a joke as it probably should have been. But Harry knew Ron was still a little bitter about not performing very well at the Auror Academy.

"Usually," Harry agreed. "How's the joke business?"

"Slowing down, now that the kids are back in school. But that's typical. We had an amazing summer," Ron said.

"That's good to hear," Harry said. "Shop seemed pretty busy to me when we got here. In fact I think Hannah's probably still lecturing two kids who were downstairs and playing with those stun wands."

"Oh great," Ron laughed. "Those things already sell like rubbish."

"Really? The kids looked like they were having a blast."

"The kids are always having a blast. That's not the issue. The issue is that parents seem to not appreciate buying things for their kids that apparently may encourage some type of aggression when they actually get their wands," Ron sighed. "I've got a few cases of them in the back. But we can probably salvage them into something else that will sell."

"Well that works, I guess," Harry shrugged. He didn't really want to get Ron going on about the inner workings of the joke shop. That would lead to a very long conversation about things that certainly wouldn't have helped his cause.

"Still take a loss on them. George should have been a bit more adamant that they weren't quite a joke shop idea. But I'd gone ahead with them," Ron shook his head. Harry knew Ron was really trying to come up with a hit item for the shop. But so far, Ron's strength had been in expansion and actually running the business.

"Well that sucks," Harry said. He didn't particularly care for any business discussion. Hell, he only ever read the business section of the Prophet a couple of times a week.

"Yeah, it does. How about you? Anything interesting going on? Hear about Parkinson?"

"Hannah and I are actually investigating that one," Harry admitted.

"Ouch," Ron said. "Good riddance if you ask me. Now just get Malfoy next."

"Ron," Harry sighed, shaking his head a bit. But his friend just ignored him and continued.

"What? They should have been rounded up after the war. They've got it coming to them," Ron said. Harry just sighed when he realized that he was going to have to defend Pureblood supremacists to his best friend.

Thankfully, he was saved from further discussion by Hannah walking into the office.

"Hiya Ron," she said, seeming a bit more bubbly than Harry would have ever expected from his partner. But he put no stock into it. She slipped into the other chair in Ron's office and crossed her legs.

"Hello Hannah," Ron responded. His eyes shifted between the two Aurors and Harry would have sworn that he paled. But he didn't put any stock into that, either. It was a pretty standard response when two Aurors walked into your office.

"How are you?" Hannah asked with a smile. She shifted so she was sitting across the chair, rather than in it, and stretched her arms over her head.

"Good," Ron said, his eyes shifting between Harry and Hannah. "I take it this isn't a personal call?"

"Not really, no," Harry admitted. Ron frowned, but sat up in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk.

"Okay, what's going on?" Ron asked. Harry took the receipt out of his pocket and handed it to his friend.

"What's that for?" Harry asked. He could have probably deciphered it easily enough if he wanted to. But the joke shop used shorthand for most of the items, and Harry figured it would be easier to just have Ron do it. And it was a good way to initiate the questioning.

"Let me see. It looks like a couple of daydream potions. The semi-erotic ones that we market for older audiences. Not the ones that wind up going to most Hogwarts students. And a chocolate bar."

"A chocolate bar?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "We work with Honeydukes and sell some of their most basic stuff at our registers."

"How long have you been doing that?" Harry asked out of genuine curiosity.

"Couple of months," Ron said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Honeydukes approached us about it."

"Interesting," Harry said.

"Was that all?" Ron asked, handing the receipt back to Harry.

"Not quite," Harry said. He tucked the receipt neatly into his pocket.

"Are you familiar with a Gemma Farley?" Hannah asked. Ron's eyes widened for a moment. But he quickly composed himself.

"Gemma Farley?" he asked, carefully.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Umm," Ron said. Harry noticed the color rising in his face. He was almost matching his hair. He exchanged a quick glance with Hannah before speaking.

"Do you know her?" He said, far more sternly. Tension filled the room rather quickly. It was hard to believe that only a few moments earlier they were talking about work and quidditch.

"Not ringing a bell," Ron said carefully.

"About five two, one-ten, chestnut hair, dark eyes. Exceptionally pretty face," Hannah said. Ron tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

"Little nose, thin eyebrows, and…a nice chest…for her size?" Ron asked.

"Sure," Hannah agreed.

"Yeah, I guess she's vaguely familiar," Ron said. "She came in fairly often. I think she worked down the street."

"The Slugs's apothecary," Harry said.

"So you know her?" Hannah asked.

"I guess," Ron said evasively. He shrugged his shoulders as he continued. "I mean as well as I know any of the customers."

"And that isn't well?" Harry asked.

"Not at all," Ron said carefully.

"Well she's dead," Hannah said casually. Ron paled instantly. His eyes widened more than Harry would have thought possible.

"What?" Ron asked.

"We found her body in a park this morning," She continued casually. "Probably left there by a murderer."

"What?" Ron asked again, sounding breathless.

"Pretty messy, really," Hannah said. "We're trying to figure out who killed her."

"And that brought you here?" Ron asked, seeming a little bit affronted.

"Well she had a few receipts from here, so we figured that couldn't hurt," Hannah said.

"Well I've told you all I know about her," Ron responded as curtly as he could.

"She also had your picture in her purse," Harry said quietly.

"What?" Ron actually laughed.

"Yeah, looked like the original of when you and George were on Witch Weekley talking about the expansion of the shop. You're in that pinstriped suit with your hair all styled. I gave you shit about it for like six months," Harry said.

"I don't know, I think he looks pretty good," Hannah said. She had the picture out and was gazing between it and Ron.

"Thanks Hannah," Ron said quietly.

"You're welcome," Hannah said, placing the picture down on his desk.

"So how'd she get that?" Harry asked. He leaned back in his chair and stared at his best friend.

"I have no idea," Ron said with a shrug. "I imagine it wouldn't be too hard to get a copy from the magazine."

"Maybe not," Harry agreed.

"Still, she had no other personal affects. Just your picture, the receipts, her wand and some coins," Hannah said.

"That's creepy," Ron said quietly.

"Very," Hannah said. "Unless you two knew each other. Then it's fairly normal."

"Well I don't know her," Ron said. "I understand why you're here. And I wish I could help you more. But I really didn't know her."

"And you've only ever seen her in the shop?"

"I don't know," Ron shrugged. "Probably. We do get some ingredients from the Slugs's. Maybe I picked them up from her once if she worked there. Or maybe she dropped them off."

"That's starting to seem like you knew her a bit better," Hannah said.

"Well I didn't," Ron said. "Now if you two don't mind. I do actually have to get some work tone today."

"Alright," Harry said. Hannah looked at him a little bit but just stood when he did.

"Thanks for your help," she said. Ron just nodded, but didn't look at them. Harry turned and left the room, leaving the picture on Ron's desk.

"He knew her," Hannah said once they were outside of the shop. She crossed her arms and paced a bit outside the store. Harry just shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. He walked over toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"That doesn't bother you?" Hannah asked, falling into step with him.

"It bothers me," Harry admitted.

"Then why aren't we doing anything about it?" Hannah asked.

"He's not going to divulge anything right now," Harry said.

"So?" Hannah asked.

"So why do we want to deal with 'Auror's falsely drag Ron Weasley away for questioning' when we don't have to?" Harry asked.

"Because he knows something," Hannah said.

"But he's not going to tell us anything at the moment," Harry said.

"You're just letting him get away with something because he's your best friend," Hannah spat.

"Hannah," Harry said coolly. She paused a little bit and frowned as she realized what she'd just blurted out.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"We're not going to do anything about it because we really don't have anything to go on. You know that as well as I do. Possession of a picture is not nearly enough evidence. Especially when it's the only thing we have," Harry said.

"Well if we go back to the apothecary we can ask the owners if he ever came in. It could possibly mesh with his excuse about ingredients and then we can at least place them together," Hannah volunteered.

"We could try that," Harry said. "But that just puts them as a legitimate business relationship. Are we going to investigate every person that Miss Farley may or may not have sold potions ingredients to?"

"That's a valid argument," Hannah said. They'd moved into the more residential area again. Hannah was just leading him lead.

"I know," Harry said. "But as you said, he is my best friend. And because of that I'm going to get the information out of him one way or another. If I can't, then we'll drag him down to the ministry."

"He's not going to tell you if he killed her," Hannah said dryly.

"Probably not. But I'm sure I'll get something out of him. Easy set-up, too. Just apologize for having to question him and invite him to a bar. Few beers later and I'm sure I'll be able to con just about anything out of him," Harry explained. He'd already planned on seeing if Ron wanted to grab a beer after the lunch with Hermione, as he knew that she would likely want to head home to work on something.

"You think it will be that easy?" Hannah laughed.

"Yes," Harry said. He turned the corner and moved down the street toward Malfoy's apartment building. Two younger Aurors, freshly graduated if Harry was to guess, were standing outside of it. He approached them.

"Any sign of him?" he asked.

"No sir," one of the Aurors said.

"When's your relief?" Harry asked.

"Three O'clock," was the response.

"Alright. I'll cover till then," He said. "Go make yourselves useful."

"Thanks," the other Auror responded and they both walked away. Harry wandered to the front of the building and tried the buzzer once more. As usual, there was no response.

"Another day of sitting around?" Hannah asked.

"I'm bailing at three," Harry said. "Too damn tired to sit around all day."

"There's potions for that," Hannah responded.

"And there's sleep for that, too," Harry commented. "It's been a long week, I just want to crash."

"Me too," she sighed, leaning against the wall. "But I really don't want to spend the next five hours leaning against this wall."

"Then don't," Harry said.

"What?" Hannah asked, looking a little startled.

"You said you hadn't gotten the forensics yet. I'm only going to stay around till three. Go do the medical stuff. I'll summon you if Draco shows up."

"Ugh," Hannah complained. "You want me to listen to doctors prattle on when I'm so tired I can't even keep my eyes open?"

"If you like, sure," Harry smiled. "But I figured you could just stand there while they prattled and nod on occasion, and then take the written reports and read through those to try to find out what went on."

"Hum," Hannah intoned. "Well that does sound better than falling asleep leaning against the wall of the building."

"Doesn't it?" Harry teased.

"Hey, if it sounds that much better to you then feel free to go get the reports yourself," Hannah said.

"But I know how much you love the medical side of things," Harry said happily.

"And I know just how much you could learn by listening to the doctor's prattle!" Hannah commented. Harry laughed a little bit and shook his head.

"If you want me to do it, Hannah, I will. But I figured grabbing that and going over it and you'd be done with work by noon," Harry said. They'd both had a very long week. He stifled a yawn and leaned against the building.

"No, I'll do it," Hannah sighed. "The allure of being done at noon rather than three is just too much to resist."

"I figured," Harry sighed. He took out his small field notebook, which was now labeled 'Parkinson Case' and flipped open to a blank page. He planned on adding in the conversation with Ron as well as some of his thoughts on the case. He'd assumed he'd have to think of a new title for the case if the Farley murder was linked as well.

"I can't wait for this week to be over," Hannah sighed.

"Me too," Harry agreed. "But the sooner we get to thinking about that, the sooner we're likely to be called at three in the morning again."

"Don't say that," Hannah laughed. "By saying that it's just going to happen!"

"I know," Harry said. "But I figured it's probably going to happen anyway."

"We really shouldn't be joking about that," Hannah said with a shake of her head. Harry nodded.

"I know," Harry said. "But at least it's not raining today." Although it was overcast.

"And on that note," Hannah laughed. "I'm getting the hell out of here, because it's going to start raining now for sure."

"Probably," Harry said as he fished out a pen and started updating his notes. He had many of the little notebooks back at his apartment. He kept all his case notes. One of his bookshelves at home was just filled with them.

"Alright, catch you later then, Harry," she said

"See you, Hannah," Harry said quietly. He didn't watch her walk away. Instead he just continued scribbling in his notebook, waiting for Draco Malfoy to show up.

Draco didn't show. Harry was beginning to suspect that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were paying for an apartment that no one ever bothered occupying. He wondered just how long it would take them to figure that out.

The hours ticked away far too slowly. It hadn't taken him nearly long enough to bring his notes up to speed, so he found himself doing little more than just leaning against the wall and watching everyone that came by.

He couldn't help but wonder if some of the people thought that maybe it was a little creepy that someone had been standing outside that building for the last few days. But he knew it wasn't worth his time to really think about that. Even if he really had a lot of time to waste.

And it didn't start to rain until around one in the afternoon. Thankfully, he was under an overhang and didn't have to cast any water repelling charms on him. He just stayed out of the water. But watching the rain made the time pass a little bit faster.

Eventually, his relief showed up. The Auror pair of Sullivan and Ali. Harry liked both men. Ali had spent most of his life in Pakistan and recently transferred to London as part of an exchange program. Harry and a few others had taken him out on his first night in London. He'd been fun to hang out with.

Harry chatted with the two for a few moments before walking away from the apartment building. He moved down the street to the apparation point and disappeared as soon as he got into range.

He apparated to the point right near where they'd found Gemma that morning. He wandered around it, not really expecting to find anything. And he didn't. It was almost completely barren in the afternoon rain. After he explored the park as thoroughly as he could, he fanned out and moved in a square around the park. One block was just Muggle residencies. It seemed like a nice enough neighborhood. But Harry couldn't tell much about the rows of town houses.

The next block became a little more commercial. With most of the essentials that any small neighborhood in a city needs. Harry didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and he was slightly annoyed with getting rained on by that point that he debated just apparating home from there.

But he didn't feel like getting another lecture about how the cooperation of ministry employees was crucial for actually enforcing the laws. So he cut back to the park and to the apparation point.

He didn't apparated home right away though. Instead he popped back to the first park, the one where they'd located Pansy. It was still raining, but less so on the opposite side of town. He knew he and Hannah had already canvased the area, but something about it made him want to look around once more.

He remembered the south being entirely residential, so he moved back north, looking for anything at all that may help with the case. After canvassing six blocks he found absolutely nothing that could be seen as helpful. It was all just shopping and restaurants.

Although, he had to admit, a few of the menus looked pretty good. He stowed that information away for a later date and figured he needed to read more restaurant reviews in the paper. But most of his restaurant choices were made entirely by what place looked good when he walked by it one day.

Eventually, he turned around and walked back. Purely because he didn't feel like continuing down the street. There wasn't anything else to see. He knew that wherever the bodies came from, it wouldn't be anywhere near the parks. But he still knew he wouldn't have felt at home until he really looked around both areas.

He walked back through the park once more, back toward the nearest apparation point. His damp clothing was starting to annoy him in the rain. But he knew after popping home he could dry them with a flick of his wrist.

His mind lingered on Pansy as he stared across the park. It was wearing on him that he had nothing to really go on with the case. But he would find Daphne or Draco soon. And they would give him a clue. Or, if he was really lucky, they'd be guilty.

Harry's stomach tightened at the thought of Daphne being guilty and he had to stop walking. That wasn't a thought the Auror was supposed to have. His emotions shouldn't play a part in the situation. If she was guilty, she was guilty. That was the end of it. It didn't matter what he wanted.

Once he convinced himself of that he kept walking. He knew Daphne would be back on Monday, and so he figured Monday was the next point at which he'd worry about that. He knew he could use a few days off from the case. A few days to clear his head were always helpful. And he felt like he needed to catch up a bit with his friends.

He was actually looking forward to the party and seeing Luna again. And Ginny if she'd be there. He hadn't seen her in a while and it would be nice to catch up. By that point he arrived at the apparation point and disappeared.

Every single light was on in his apartment. And it was way warmer than it should have been. He tilted his head to the side and smiled as he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. He could hear the wireless echoing down the hallway from that room, and figured that was where his visitor would be.

And he wasn't disappointed. In fact, he was pleasantly surprised. He took a moment to just stare at her, because that seemed to be the perfectly logical thing to do. And he really liked the view as she leaned against the counter, her back to the door.

She was barefoot and had athletic looking calves and legs. He knew she was in peak physical shape. You had to be, to do what she did. And yet most people who looked at her probably wouldn't have thought about that. He did, though, as his eyes slid up.

Her legs were bare. That is except for the pair of blue cotton boy shorts she wore. Harry admired them for a moment. But he let his eyes linger on her ass for more than a moment. It was one of her best features, but he'd never told her that for fear of it seeming insulting.

She had a matching blue camisole on, covering her to just below the shoulder. One of the straps was dangerously close to slipping off of her pale flesh. Unfortunately, it didn't happen while he stared at her.

Her hair was wet and hanging down her back. That always made it look darker than it was. It was very messy and he wanted to run his hands through it. After a moment, though, she spoke.

"Done leering?" Hannah Abbott asked cheekily. She turned around and faced him, leaning back against the counter.

"No. Turn back around," Harry said, causing his partner to laugh.

"I brought some Chinese," she said. "Sesame chicken."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly. "Why are you here?"

"You asked me to come over this morning," she said with a little bit of a smirk. She took a moment to stretch her arms above her head, when she lowered them, the strap was further down her shoulder. She walked over to his table and sat down.

"Are you always going to come over when I ask?" Harry asked. He gathered up some of the Chinese food. Judging by how much of it was left, Hannah had already eaten. He reheated it with a flick of his wand and started eating.

"I doubt it," Hannah said. "But I was tired and it seemed like a good idea. You do know how amazing your walk-in shower is, right?"

"Yes," Harry laughed. "It is pretty nice."

"And I figured I'd get you up to speed on the forensics," Hannah said. Harry frowned a little bit as he ate. He didn't particularly wish to speak about the case.

"What did they find out?" Harry asked.

"Not a thing," Hannah said. Harry paused and just stared at her, but this time in shock rather than lust.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said again. "The only spells in her system were the ones we could identify from her wand. The birth control one. Like the Muggles, nothing they could find would indicate a cause of death."

"What?" Harry asked again. He'd never heard anything like that.

"That was pretty much what I said. But I have the file," she gestured to the folder sitting on the table.

"I trust you," Harry said, shaking his head. "But I've never encountered anything like that."

"Neither have they," Hannah said. "They're going to run even more tests. And they're going to do the same on Gemma. They didn't have a report on her yet, obviously, but when I mentioned the cases might be linked they pulled the bodies together."

"So they have absolutely no idea what killed her?" Harry said.

"They don't," Hannah admitted. "Nothing that happened to her should have resulted in her death."

"So we have a body that shouldn't be dead, and another that we don't know about yet?" Harry asked.

"Essentially," Hannah nodded.

"How does that even happen?" Harry asked. He'd finished with the Chinese so he threw the leftover containers into the bin he had that vanished refuse on command, or every morning if not commanded. He used to have one that just vanished things the second they were tossed in, but a surprising amount of things wind up falling into the garbage by accident.

"Couldn't tell you," Hannah yawned. Harry walked over to the table and sat down opposite of her. He took out his field notes and flipped to the page he'd left blank near the beginning and the description of Pansy. On that empty page he started to jot down the information Hannah had given him.

"People don't just stop working," Harry said.

"Sometimes they do," Hannah countered. Harry sighed a little bit.

"Okay fine, two people don't just randomly stop working and wind up in a dead in a park in the middle of London," Harry amended.

"That's better," Hannah said.

"Do you have any idea what could have caused it?" he asked as he finished putting the information into his notebook.

"Not a clue, or I'd have told you already," Hannah said.

"And you can't think of anything at all that it could have been?" Harry sighed.

"Can you?" Hannah countered.

"No I guess not," Harry admitted. He frowned a bit though. Magic always left a trace. He remembered that lesson from Dumbledore well enough. And it had been a staple of the Auror Academy. He'd never encountered something where there wasn't any trace.

"Just imagine how Forensics feels," Hannah laughed. "The head of the Department told me it's been thirty years since they couldn't identify what killed someone."

"So they're not going to have a good weekend," Harry couldn't help but laugh with his partner.

"I'm sure they'll have a skeleton crew on Saturday and Sunday, but yeah, I suspect it won't be the best of times for them," Hannah commented and they were silent for a few moments. She stood from her chair and walked through his small kitchen. She opened the fridge and looked around. She took out a bottle of apple juice, that was likely leftover from her brief stay a few weeks ago, and a bottle of water, before walking back to the table. She handed the water to him.

"This case is bothering me more than I feel it should," Harry admitted. He opened the bottle and took a long swig of it.

"Me too," Hannah said as she screwed the cap back onto her juice. "But I don't feel like thinking about it anymore. I've thought about it enough this week. It's time to not think about it anymore."

"Oh?" Harry asked. "What would you prefer the conversation to be about then, Hannah?"

"Who said I want conversation?" she teased. "I'm going to go sit on your couch since it's early too go to bed. I'll either read the paper or find something to watch."

"Sounds boring," Harry said.

"Maybe, but I'm tired, so that's what I feel like doing at the moment. You should probably go take a shower. Mine was wonderful. And change into some pajamas. And when you come back out bring a bunch of blankets," Hannah said.

"Are you ordering me around, Abbott?" Harry asked, tilting his head and looking at her.

"Hey now, Potter, you're the one that asked me to come over. But no, you can do whatever you like. I'll be in the living room. Fair warning, though, I want to be on top first." And she leaned over the table, which just caused his eyes to slide to her chest before her lips pressed to his. She tasted like apples. After a moment, though, she was walking away, into his living room. He watched her walk, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips as she moved.

It took him a moment after that to compose himself. But he stood and moved to his bedroom, peering just briefly into the living room as he did. She didn't seem to notice him as she adjusted the pillows on his couch. He just smiled and ducked into his bathroom, thankful that his weekend would at least start much better than the previous week had.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it. Chapter 10 is about half done as of now. As always, the best way to contact me for whatever reason is typically through the on-site PM system.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Goldrune09 and Zaion Indulias for the beta work on this chapter.

Chapter 10

Harry woke to find his partner's back pressed to his chest. He usually slept on his back, but for some reason, whenever he spent an evening with Hannah, he'd wake up spooning her. Not that he really minded. He just found the entire situation to be a little bit odd.

His face was buried in her hair. She smelled surprisingly like his soap and shampoo, but he suspected that was just what he deserved when she used his shower. At least this time she didn't transfigure his into hers. The flowery scent really caught him off guard the first time she'd done that.

One of his hands rested on Hannah's bare stomach, his other was wedged between them. She was mostly laying on it. It couldn't have been the most comfortable position, but she seemed to be sleeping soundly.

He traced his fingers over her stomach, playing momentarily with the piercing in her navel. He wasn't sure when she'd gotten it. She hadn't had it at the academy, or in Birmingham. It made its first appearance when she'd spent the night after breaking things off with Ernie.

"How is your hand so cold?" Hannah mumbled. She wiggled against him, pressing her back as tightly to his chest as she could manage.

"How is your stomach so warm?" he asked, shifting himself against her as she wiggled. He also took a moment to press his face into her hair.

"It's not," she said. "It's no warmer than the jewel you're playing with. Which is cold, by the way."

"When did you get it?" he asked, sliding one finger in a circle around her navel.

"Couple months ago," she shrugged. "Ernie hated it. Didn't understand why someone would want to pierce themselves."

"He hate earrings too?" Harry teased.

"No. But he hated when I pointed that out," Hannah sighed.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked.

"You said it was kind of hot when we were paging through that Muggle magazine on the Simms case. Then I was talking with Susan about it one night. She didn't get it and didn't think people would actually do it. So I did it to prove her wrong," Hannah said.

"You were drunk, weren't you?" Harry asked.

"Completely smashed," Hannah admitted. "It really surprised me in the shower in the morning."

"I bet," Harry laughed.

"I wasn't going to keep it," Hannah sighed. "But I decided I kind of liked it."

"It's cute," Harry agreed, toying with the piercing a little more.

"Cute isn't really what I was going for with it," Hannah giggled. Harry just slid his lips down across her neck.

"Sexy?" Harry asked.

"Better," Hannah nodded. "How is your hand still cold?"

"You're just hot," Harry scoffed. And then he slid his hand lower, thinking that he knew at least one way he could warm it up.

"Oh," Hannah gasped and wiggled against him. "Mmm Harry. What time is it?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, his hand slipping between her legs. He gazed over toward the clock.

"Cold, Harry!" Hannah gasped, but squirmed back against him.

"It's ten eighteen," Harry said quietly, whispering it into her ear.

"Dammit," she groaned and tried to wiggle away from him. But he just held her in place.

"What?" he asked. He had absolutely no intention of letting her go.

"I'm supposed to meet Susan for brunch," she gasped.

"Be late," he said.

"I'm already late," she whined and attempted to get out of the bed. But Harry just pulled her back to him and rolled on top of her.

"It's been a long week," he said, shifting against her. "Just tell her how early you had to get up all week. And how we had so much work to do on the case."

"Fine," she groaned and kissed him. And she didn't wind up being nearly as late as she thought she'd be.

He was tempted to go back to bed once she'd showered and left. But Hermione floo'd him and asked where they were going to meet for lunch. Harry just picked the first place that popped into his head.

A few hours later he found himself at O'Callahan's. The owner, Jack, waved at him as he entered the small pub. At the moment the establishment wasn't much more than a bar and a few booths in the windows. But if more people showed up the O'Callahan's could activate charms that expanded the restaurant.

Still, it wasn't Hermione's favorite place. She didn't usually join Harry or Ron when they stopped by the little pub. He was almost surprised that she hadn't protested when he'd suggested it, but it had been a while since they'd gone out for anything, so she probably assumed that it was just easier to agree and see her friend.

He saw a bushy head of brunette hair sticking up from one of the booths and walked over toward it. She was seated in the corner of the booth, and was gazing out the window as he approached. A glass of tea rested on the table in front of her. A dark beer sat nearly untouched in front of a placemat to her left.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said as he slid into the booth across from her.

"Hey Harry!" she smiled. It was a chilly fall day and she wore a red sweater that made Harry wonder just when she developed such nice assets. He tried his best not to stare.

"How are you doing this morning," he asked while a waitress came to take his order. He peered at the drink menu. A Voldemort's Revenge stuck out, but he didn't think he wanted to drink that much absinthe at lunch, not to mention the vodka or rum that was also in it. He settled on the house brew, a red ale that Jack O'Callahan claimed his family brewed for the last five hundred years.

"I'm doing well," she said. "And yourself?"

"Tired," Harry stifled a yawn.

"Lots of work this week?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah," Harry sighed. "Two early wakeup calls and a stakeout. All that mixed with the usual questioning and working."

"I'm sorry," Hermione frowned. Harry just shrugged a little bit.

"It's part of the job. How was the floo system?" Harry asked.

"It's working out," she said. "It's slow work. But we're getting it down. I'm a little bit sick of helping out the Department of Transportation, but we're almost done."

"What's next once you're done?" Harry asked.

"I don't know yet," she admitted. "Mostly Kingsley just sends me wherever they need a hand."

"Look at you," Harry teased. "First name basis with the minister?"

"Aren't you?" she looked surprised.

"No," Harry laughed. "But some of the old-school Aurors are bigger sticklers about rank. Minister Shacklebolt included in that." It was only partially true. He doubted the minister would care if Harry referred to him by his first name. But, the Auror Academy taught all young Aurors to show respect for rank and experience.

Harry remembered thinking that being responsible for the death of a Dark Lord, and the wizard that many referred to as the most dangerous threat of their time should have rated him higher on the experience scale, but the Auror trainers hadn't agreed with him.

"I see," Hermione said. "Oh and they should have your apparation information by mid-week."

"Thanks. Where's Ron?" Harry asked, gazing around the pub.

"Bathroom," Hermione said. "And I'm sure he'll complain about his beer getting warm when he gets back."

"The glasses are charmed to keep the contents at the ideal temperature," Harry countered.

"So?" Hermione asked and Harry just laughed, causing his friend to smirk at him.

"Okay, valid point," he admitted.

"I know," Hermione turned her gaze back out the window. "Sometimes he really gets on my nerves?"

"Everything still good with you two, though?" Harry asked. He hadn't really pressed for any details on Ron and Hermione's relationship. They'd been together, more or less, since the Battle of Hogwarts, and they lived together. But Ron didn't seem ready to commit further than that. Harry knew that his two friends had fought about that about six months ago. But he'd been too busy on a case to really provide any type of support in the situation.

If he was honest, he was glad they'd sorted it out by the time he and Hannah solved the case. It was always nice to not have to be involved in any type of quarrel between his friends.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed in a way that made Harry think that things probably weren't okay.

"That doesn't sound like it," Harry frowned. He turned his gaze to the bathroom, but there wasn't any sign of Ron. It would have been fairly awkward for his friend to come into the conversation at this point.

"He and George have just been very busy lately," Hermione said. "They opened a new branch in Bordeaux a few weeks ago. And he spent a few weeks there. When I visited he was too busy for us to really do anything."

"Ron turned into a workaholic?" Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"I know, right?" Hermione sighed. "And I'm chastising him for it, which is terrible. But sometimes I miss the more carefree Ron. He really does want to run the joke shops well though."

"What about the joke shop?" Ron asked, sliding into the booth next to Hermione. Harry took a moment to just stare at him. His friend looked tired. Hell, Ron looked almost as tired as Harry felt. Harry hadn't noticed that yesterday when he'd questioned him.

"I was just telling Hermione about how I'm always amazed whenever I step into it. It's been what, seven, eight years since it opened? And I'm still wowed every time," Harry explained.

"Thanks," Ron said as he picked up his beer and took a sip of it.

"And the child-care aspect of it was really a brilliant idea. But how often are you stuck with a kid for hours?" Harry asked.

"That was Hermione's idea, actually," Ron said, nodding to her. "But rarely. If you read the posted bulletins around the shop they state the rules. And we try to tell any parents that drop their kids off that. They have to pay if the kid is there for more than an hour."

"Really?" Harry asked. "And that goes over well?"

"No," Ron admitted. "But it prevents us from turning into a non-profit day-care facility."

"Makes sense," Harry said. He took a sip of his beer then, almost forgetting that the waitress has returned with it during his conversation with Hermione.

"Still annoys Verity," Ron said. "She thinks we should just do away with it. But I think it's bringing in enough business." It took Harry a moment to remember that Verity was the main sales clerk that worked at the joke shop. She'd been there since the store opened.

"Would annoy me," Harry laughed as he opened the menu. They lapsed into silence for a few moments while they each decided on what they'd like to eat.

"Would either of you like another beer?" the waitress asked as she stopped by to check on them. Harry gazed at his and was a little shocked to realize he'd downed almost the entire thing.

"Sure," Ron said. "Are we ready to order?" He looked at Hermione, Harry suspected because he knew Harry would be fine with ordering whenever.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'll do the chopped salad, with chicken please."

"Fish and chips," Ron added. He took his and Hermione's menus and handed them to the waitress.

"Slider combo," Harry said, handing over his menu as well.

"Alright. That will be right up," the waitress smiled before walking back to the kitchen to enter their order and retrieve the refills.

"Still drinking the Drakenbranch?" Harry asked, with a nod toward Ron's near empty beer glass.

"Yeah. I love it," Ron said. "How can you not love anything with barley roasted by dragon-fire?"

"It's way too filling," Harry laughed. It had good flavor though, a sort of roasted taste that always reminded Harry a little bit of coffee. "I can't ever get past a second one and not feel bloated."

"It's not that filling," Ron laughed. "It just has a good body to it."

"It's filling," Hermione laughed. "I drank one and didn't eat for the rest of the day."

"Is that where the one in our refrigerator went?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "I had to see what all the fuss was about!"

"I was wondering where that went," Ron shrugged. "Thought I'd forgotten that I drank it."

"And you call me a lush for drinking at home," Harry teased. Ron hadn't ever implied anything of the sort. At least not in a serious way.

"Takes one to know one," Ron commented right back.

"Speaking of drinking," Harry said. "You guys thinking of going to Seamus's party tonight?"

"I don't think so," Hermione sighed. "Ron has some work to do tonight and I was thinking of heading into the office early tomorrow morning to see if the floo changes were lasting like we expected they would."

"Oh come on," Harry laughed. "I'm the only one who's supposed to ever have to work on weekends. Now just stop by for a drink or something."

"I actually probably don't have to work," Ron said. "I think I got enough done yesterday that I can afford to forgo a night experimenting."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. I don't suspect anything good would come out of it tonight anyway," Ron admitted.

"Then you should go to the party," Harry laughed.

"Maybe we should," Hermione smiled. "But you're not the type to be inviting all sorts of people to a party. You barely go to them as it!"

"I told Luna I'd be there," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's been so long that I'm not even sure who's going to show up."

"I'm sure the same people as ever," Ron said.

"Are you and Luna an item?" Hermione asked, picking up on the casual part of Harry's sentence.

"No," Harry said quickly. So quickly that it surprised him a bit. He tilted his head to the side as he thought about it. He and Luna certainly weren't an item. But it wasn't something he was opposed to. In fact, quite the opposite. He'd probably try to do something with Luna. Maybe not after the party. She always seemed too cautious and guarded to move that quickly.

"But you're making promises to her?" Hermione asked.

"I run into her for work related things from time to time," Harry lied. But he knew they could at least reasonably guess at what an Auror would need of an apprentice wand maker. "She needs to get out more. We actually went to dinner the other night."

"You and Looney?" Ron actually laughed a little bit. Harry shook his head.

"Ron," Hermione scoffed.

"She's actually fun to hang around with," Harry shrugged. "She's getting closer to how she was before the war."

"I wonder what they did to her at Malfoy Manor," Ron shrugged before taking a sip of his beer.

"I'd rather not think about that," Harry said. And thankfully any further conversation on the topic was rendered moot as their food showed up. Hermione started on her salad, spearing small bits of it with her fork. Ron immediately started on his fish.

Harry just took a long swig of beer before staring down at his sliders. The sampler came with four, a pulled pork, a blackened hamburger with crumbled blue cheese, a tuna salad and a barbequed chicken. He picked up the burger first and started on that one.

The conversation trailed off while they ate. Ron and Harry talked a little bit about quidditch. But that was mostly just brief comments on Chudley or Ginny's career. Ron never quite understood that Harry didn't particularly care about either. But he just smiled and made conversation as he ate his sliders. The pulled pork wound up being the best.

He insisted on paying. It seemed to ruffle Hermione a bit, but Ron didn't make a comment. They went out enough and typically took turns and since Harry was pretty sure he hadn't paid the last time, so he insisted on it this time.

"So what are you two up to for the rest of the day then?" Harry asked. He didn't really have any plans himself until the party.

"I was going to do some shopping," Hermione said. "I think Ron was going to come with me."

"Shopping?" Harry made a face. "How'd you talk Ron into that?"

"I let him pick out things for me to try on," Hermione said dryly. Harry blinked a bit, he certainly hadn't suspected that answer. "And we need to get some groceries anyway. He insists I buy far too much health food."

"You do," Ron said. He was blushing a bit.

"So not a chance I can convince you to stay for a beer?" Harry laughed, nodding toward the bar.

"No, I said I'd take her shopping," Ron frowned. He looked like he was making an excuse. That he really didn't want to spend much time alone with Harry. It bothered the Auror, but he decided that he was probably just being overly paranoid.

Either way, a few moments later they all left the small pub. Ron and Hermione ventured off to do their shopping and Harry just wandered outside and around the London streets.

He just walked for about an hour, mostly to kill time. He liked to walk around London. It helped him think. Although, at this point, he wasn't really thinking about anything in particular. Instead he was just enjoying the fall afternoon.

After that he went home. There wasn't much else to do. He was mildly disappointed when there was absolutely no sign of Hannah. But he didn't really expect there to be any sign of Hannah. As much as he hoped that she'd decide to spend more time with him.

Harry couldn't help but take a moment and fantasize about Hannah quitting the Aurors and switching over into the medical field like she wanted to. Then there wouldn't be any regulation against a relationship.

Yet, at the same time, he wasn't sure how he and Hannah would work in a daily situation. There were many times they annoyed each other. And outside of sex and work, they pretty much never spent any time together.

He grabbed the morning paper off the counter and sat at the small table in the kitchen to read it. Gemma Farley's obituary was on the third page. He scanned it, but there wasn't anything of note in it. So he just paged through the paper and killed time.

Eventually the evening rolled around. Thankfully, he hadn't been contacted by the department and asked to do anything unusual that day. So he'd really just sat around at home and avoided doing anything.

He didn't bother dressing up, either. He just wore casual Muggle clothing similar to whatever he'd wear when he and Hannah were required to be out in Muggle London. He didn't even bother with his hair.

When he decided he looked presentable enough he apparated straight out of his apartment. He materialized outside of Seamus's building in north London. He walked up to the door and hit the buzzer. The outside door just opened when he did so he walked in with a shrug.

A few moments later found him on the ninth floor. The hallway was completely quiet and it wasn't until after he knocked on the door and was pulled inside, that the music really hit him.

"Harry!" Seamus yelled. He was holding two beers, and he shoved one of them into Harry's hands. Harry recognized the broom logo on the side of the can and opened it quickly before taking a swig.

"Seamus!" he yelled back. He could barely hear himself over the music and he remembered why he wasn't really a fan of parties.

"How are you!?" Seamus asked as he escorted him through the kitchen and into the living room where a mass of people were standing around and talking.

"Good! Yourself?" Harry yelled back, figuring keeping it simple was the easiest way.

"Great!" Seamus yelled as a buzzer went off. "I have to go let someone else in now!" And he disappeared. Harry just laughed and sipped his beer before looking around the room.

"Harry!" he heard from behind him. He turned and saw a familiar redhead. She walked right up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips before giving him a hug.

"Ginny!" he responded. "How have you been? Nice game against the Bats." He knew she always liked being complimented on quidditch. But when she made a face at the comment, he remembered that they'd lost.

"Fuck Button," she scoffed, referencing a Ballycastle beater who was known for having a bit of a mouth on him.

"Pass," Harry said with a shrug. "But if you want to go for it."

"He is kind of hot," Ginny admitted with a sly smirk. "But he's too much of a cock."

"Isn't that necessary for the fucking?" Harry asked.

"You'd be surprised," Ginny countered. Harry just laughed and shook his head a little bit. He supposed the comment shouldn't have really surprised him. Hannah made similar comments from time to time. Once or twice she even talked a bit more openly about Susan Bones than Harry thought was probably healthy. But it wasn't his place to really comment.

"I'm surprised you're here," he yelled. "I thought you had a match tonight."

"It got rescheduled to tomorrow," she responded. "Some portkey accident. I don't think the Catapults seeker has shown up yet."

"You'd think that would be a forfeit," Harry countered.

"Should be, probably," Ginny agreed. "I'm surprised you're here though. I got the gist that you never came to these."

"I show up on occasion. You know how busy work can be," Harry said.

"I do," Ginny frowned. "I'm going to go get another drink. You need anything?"

"I'm good, thanks," he said, holding up his beer. She nodded and walked off back toward the kitchen. Harry just took a moment to look around. It was pretty much like a DA meeting. He exchanged brief pleasantries with Dean, before walking past Neville and Hannah who were debating the use of certain debilitating spells in a way only two aurors could. He joined in the debate for a moment, before continuing to make his way around the party.

He talked to just about everyone before he finally found the person he was looking for. She was standing awkwardly in the doorway looking around. She wore a casual blue dress and was holding a plastic cup in her hand. She was making a face and staring down at it, as if she was unsure of what it actually was.

"Hello Luna," he said, stepping next to her. "Not a fan of your drink?"

"No," she frowned. "I asked Seamus for wine, I'm not sure what this is. It's not like what we had the other night."

"Well we had good wine," Harry smiled. "Seamus doesn't strike me as the type to put much stock into his wine choices."

"Oh," she frowned.

"Want me to get you something else?" he asked.

"No that's okay," she said. And she emphasized her point by taking a sip of the drink again. This time she didn't make a face.

"How was your day?" he asked. He led her out of the doorway and over to the corner of the living room. It was still hard to hear over the music, but he made do.

"Long," she frowned. "Garrick wasn't very helpful at the store. But we weren't that busy. I had to make six oak wands."

"How did that go?" Harry asked. Luna just frowned.

"I have to go in tomorrow morning and finish the last two," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. Luna just shrugged her shoulders a bit and took another sip of her drink.

"It's very loud in here," she said.

"Yeah, Seamus loves his music," Harry commented.

"I wish they'd turn it down," she said.

"I don't think Seamus is going to do that," Harry laughed. "But I have an idea." And he took out his wand and casted a sort of privacy charm around the two of them.

"That's better," she sighed. "But don't you want to be involved with the party?"

"I already talked to pretty much everyone," he admitted. "So I'm good."

"I see," Luna sighed.

"Unless there's something you'd like to do," he smiled. Luna shook her head.

"No," Luna said. "I only came because you told me to."

"Asked you to," Harry countered.

"Nuance," Luna joked.

"Well I'm glad you showed up," Harry said.

"How many Muggles saw you apparate here?" Luna asked. It took Harry to remember the condition she'd set out for his coming.

"None," Harry smiled. "I didn't get called into work today. A minor miracle, really."

"Lucky," Luna said.

"Very. But I got called in yesterday morning. So it was sort of an evening out."

"Why?" Luna asked.

"Another body. They may be linked," Harry admitted. "But I'm not supposed to talk about the case."

"Gemma Farley?" Luna asked.

"How did you know?" Harry responded. He was legitimately surprised she mentioned it.

"It was in the paper today," Luna admitted. Harry remembered that he read it as well.

"Oh," he sighed. "You know her?"

"Not really," Luna said. "She worked at the potion shop. I'd seen her around. I'm not sure if we'd ever spoken. But she usually smiled if you smiled."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Whenever I'd smile at her she'd smile back. Usually I've found the better people are the ones who do that," Luna said, as if that explained everything perfectly.

"And you had occasion to smile at her often?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well, sometimes. We'd walk past each other in the alley a lot," she said.

"So you'd smile at her?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well, yes. I do that whenever I walk around," Luna said.

"Smile at people?" Harry asked. He had the strangest feeling that he'd be asking this question a lot in the coming days.

"Yes," Luna said. "I started doing it at school. Whenever I make eye contact with someone I'll smile. And I keep track of who smiles back and who look at me like I'm crazy."

"And Gemma always smiled back?" Harry asked.

"Every time," Luna said, she sounded sad. "Even when she looks annoyed or bored or angry. She'd always smile."

"Do most people smile?" he asked.

"No," Luna said. "Only about half. At best."

"Do I smile?" Harry laughed.

"You're a special case," Luna admitted. Harry blinked a bit and tilted his head to look at her.

"How so?" Harry asked.

"You usually see me first. Which is odd. No one ever seems to see me first. But you do. And you're always smiling before I even see you," she explained, which, oddly enough, just caused Harry to smile.

"Well I am paid to be observant, you know," Harry said.

"Maybe you are," Luna responded. "But it's been the same way since school."

"Well I was only smiling because then you would smile," Harry teased. Luna just shook her head, but she smiled a bit.

"I'm going to get another drink," she said. And Harry followed her. They found themselves talking to other friends for hours. Harry quickly lost track of time. But he didn't really care as he planned on sleeping all of Sunday away. Assuming the department didn't call.

He noticed Hannah was hitting it off fairly well with Neville. But he looked away from that as part of it bothered him immensely. Still, he couldn't help but think they'd be a good pair. And he took comfort knowing that she couldn't date him because they were both Aurors. He couldn't help but shake his head a bit at that thought, knowing full well how much that had stopped Hannah previously.

It wasn't until way later, as he was leading a slightly tipsy Luna around the party, that he even realized what time it was. And even then, purely because Luna checked her watch.

"Oh no," she frowned. "It's like one in the morning. And I have to be up in like five hours!"

"Ouch," Harry said.

"I should get home," she frowned and slipped away from Harry.

"Want me to take you?" he asked.

"What?" Luna blinked.

"Home," Harry blushed. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"Oh. No. That's okay," Luna said. "You stay and have fun. I'm just going to go." And he didn't really think to argue. Moments later she was gone. He frowned a little bit and looked around the party. Not sure of what to do now that his only reason for being there was gone. He debated following her. But he didn't. He wasn't sure how kindly that Luna would take to that.

"So you and Luna?" He was a little startled that he didn't see Ginny walk up next to him, or lean against the same wall as him.

"I just figured she should get out more," Harry said.

"You're actually fairly cute together," Ginny laughed. "Almost makes me jealous. But she's so clueless."

"She's is, a bit, isn't she?" Harry sighed.

"Keep at it though. I bet she could be a blast," Ginny teased. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Maybe," he said. He looked at Ginny for a few moments. She had her hair loose and she held a drink in her hand. She was giving him a little mischievous smile. And he missed her, he knew that much. She'd always been fun to be around. They just never seemed to be on the same page with all of the life decisions.

"So," she said carefully, "You want to get out of here?" Harry paused and looked at her. He knew he should probably avoid it, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," he said, and they left the party.

The next morning he pretended to be asleep as Ginny dressed and made her way to Quidditch. While it had been fun, he wasn't quite sure how to take it. He certainly didn't really want to get back involved with Ginny. But they were both adults. And if the papers were to be believed then she'd had her fair share of casual relationships.

Of course, he wasn't sure if he was in any position to comment. He'd had perhaps a bit too much fun after they'd broken up. At least she hadn't said anything about making another serious attempt at a relationship. In his judgment, it had been purely physical. But he hadn't really given her much of a chance to speak.

Once she'd left he'd gone back to sleep. And he hadn't bothered to crawl out of bed until about one in the afternoon.

When he finally decided to get up and face the day he didn't really do much. He read the morning paper, as per usual, and went to the deli for a sandwich. He sat outside and ate it, enjoying the day. He often wished that was more how his life was.

The thought of just sitting and eating lunch outside with someone while not having a care in the world seemed far better than early wake-up calls and dead bodies. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe he should have tried for a different career.

People always said he could have been a professional. And working a few days a week for half of the year did seem like a much better option. But he hadn't played a really organized game in years. He missed it.

After he finished his sandwich he went back home. He turned on the wireless in time to catch the start of the Harpy-Catapults game. But he didn't really pay that much attention to it. He was distracted after about an hour of play.

"Potter, you home?" a voice rang out. He blinked and looked toward the entrance of his house. The wards should have alerted him had anyone tried to enter his apartment. But there wasn't anyone there.

"Pooootter?" it rang out again, but this time he could trace the sound to the fireplace.

"Hello?" he responded and stood to move toward it.

"Hi," Daphne Greengrass's fiery face said.

"Daphne?" Harry responded, legitimately alarmed. He almost immediately started questioning her. But the first one that came out was not the one that he really wanted to ask. "How did you get my address?"

"I'm clever," she responded.

"Try again," Harry said, crossing his arms and attempting to sound stern.

"I asked Hannah," she frowned and he felt a bit like he ruined her fun. But most Aurors took privacy fairly seriously. It wasn't a good idea to let potential dark wizards know where you lived, no matter how good your protections were.

"I see," Harry said.

"And you are absolutely no fun. But more to the point. I spent way too much money shopping and am now hungry. You promised to pay for a second meal on account of me crying through the first. So what do you say to meeting at Le Bistro Colonial around seven tonight?" Daphne asked. Harry paused. He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her to report immediately to the ministry for questioning. But he also wanted to try the bistro. He heard they had a fantastic gnocchi dish.

"Sure," Harry said. "But if you start crying during this one I'm just going to take it personally and not take you out again."

"Deal," Daphne said. "See you in a few." And her face disappeared. Harry just sat there for a moment, wondering why he didn't jump on her about the case. But he shook his head and moved to his bedroom, figuring he'd have to put on something nicer for date number two. At the very least he could question her there.

Author's Note: As always thanks for reading. The best way to contact me is through PM on the site. I try to respond to all of those.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Goldrune09 and Zaion Indulias for the beta work on this chapter.

Chapter 11

Harry didn't contact Hannah. His first instinct was to floo her and tell her that Daphne had resurfaced. But, he didn't want to admit that he'd just agreed to go out with her, pretty much immediately. That seemed like bad form.

He spent far too long just sitting on his couch, unsure of exactly what to do. He knew he had to change, he wasn't dressed nearly nice enough to go to the restaurant Daphne suggested. Of course, it was owned and run by wizards, so he could probably show up dressed in just about anything and be treated like a hero.

Of course, he thought wryly, he was a hero. He even had the medals and accolades to prove it. Perhaps, some day, he should really consider cashing in on the whole 'slayer of Voldemort' deal.

He knew he'd never actually do that. But the thought was tempting. Probably more tempting than it should have been. He got it out of his mind by finally getting up off the couch.

He spent a few minutes just staring at the clothing in his closet. He couldn't really find anything worth wearing. Which was a slight problem. But, he rectified it by taking another shower.

Harry didn't really have a reason for doing that. But part of him wanted to make sure any trace of Ginny, and perhaps even Hannah, was off his body. He knew that was a stupid thought. But that didn't prevent it from occurring to him. And that also didn't prevent him from thinking that maybe a shower was the most brilliant thing on the planet.

Unfortunately it didn't really help with the clothes decision. Because under twenty minutes later he just found himself staring into his closet once more. It took him far too long to settle on black jeans and a button up shirt. Really, he couldn't have picked a more boring ensemble. But when he was finally dressed he thought he looked good enough.

He wandered back into the bathroom and attempted to do something with his hair. But, as always, it was a futile cause. Still, it helped him kill some time until he could reasonably leave his house to head to the restaurant.

Le Bistro Colonial specialized in food from across the British Commonwealth, or so they claimed. Harry felt the menu was a little too French to really be anything colonial British. But some of the Asian themes probably had some merit. Although his history was pretty rough, he could have sworn the French had Asian colonies too.

He spent a few minutes outside the restaurant, just looking at the menu posted on the wall, before he ducked into the door. The hostess smiled at him, and then just gasped.

"Harry Potter!" she pretty much yelled. A few people turned and looked. Harry just smiled a little bit.

"Hello," he said. She rushed out from behind the hostess stand to greet him. She was wearing a skimpy black dress and Harry leered, as it seemed like the best possible option.

"It's an honor to meet you!" she said exuberantly. "Is there anything I can do for you?" And he's not ashamed to admit he thought about seeing if he could get her into the bathroom, and if he could, just how far he could get with her. But then he remembered that he was supposed to be meeting someone and he just shook his head.

"No, I'm meeting someone here tonight. I'm just going to head to the bar if you don't mind," Harry said with a full smile. He couldn't help but be a little proud that the hostess swooned a little bit as he spoke.

"Alright. Enjoy your meal. Make sure to let me know if you need anything!" The hostess said. She made a point to smile very brightly at him, and Harry seriously considered forgetting about Daphne. But, she'd earned this fake-date, in a way, and he could always come back to flirt with a hostess.

"I will, thank you," Harry said. He ducked away from the hostess stand and moved to the bar. It was incredibly modern, just a marble slate with stools that certainly wouldn't have been comfortable in a Muggle restaurant. Thankfully, Harry could sense that they were charmed. And when he sat down smack dab in the middle of the bar, he wasn't disappointed.

He relaxed backward just a little as he picked up the drink menu and started to page through it. There wasn't anything particularly interesting in it. Well, at least anything that really appealed to him. So he flipped to the wine list. It was mostly French and all he really knew was that he wanted a white. So he ordered a bottle of a moderately priced Sancerre and hoped it wouldn't be something Daphne hated.

He checked his watch and saw it was a little bit after seven. He couldn't see much of the restaurant from the bar area. But he doubted Daphne was waiting for him at a table.

The bartender returned with his wine and a glass. He uncorked the bottle the Muggle way, which seemed like an excessive amount of effort to Harry, and poured a little bit into the glass. Harry picked it up and tried to seem like he had a clue of how to properly taste wine. He sipped the liquid and nodded, it tasted pretty good to him. The bartender poured more into his glass and moved to help another customer.

He noticed that quite a few of the staff, and the only other two patrons at the bar were staring at him. But he ignored it. It was something he'd grown accustomed to since the end of the war. Even when it had been years since he'd done anything really worthy of note. It still bothered him, to some degree. Thankfully, it had been a few years since people ran up and asked for autographs.

He couldn't help but wonder just how different his thoughts on that would have been had he pursued professional quidditch. He'd debated trying it after the Battle of Oxford, when the war was finally over. But by that point it had been years since he'd played the game. And he didn't know how well he'd pick it up.

Nor did he want anyone to quit the Auror corps because Harry Potter left. He knew he was a symbol. And he knew he had to be a symbol. Of course, now he could probably get away with quitting. The force was much better stocked, and he'd certainly done his part. But there wasn't really anything that he particularly wanted to do. So he was going to be a cop. He was proud of that. And he'd continue to be proud of that until the day he handed in his department credentials.

Deep down, though, he knew he wouldn't be doing this job in two or three decades. He liked it, yes, but he was set monetarily, and at some point he knew he would just want to be done. Perhaps he could do something more part time, as he really did enjoy helping out.

"Sorry I'm late," a soft voice said from behind him. He spun on his stool and looked at her.

"That's okay," he said as his jaw dropped. She was incredibly overdressed, especially in comparison to him. She wore a thin, short green dress that showed off a nice amount of cleavage and an incredible amount of leg. She had matching green heels on and carried a green leather purse. She also had a silver bracelet on her right wrist, and silver earrings with green gems dangling out of her ears.

"You like?" she asked and then she surprised him by twirling around expertly on her toes right there in the bar. Her skirt fanned upwards just a bit, and her hair spread about wildly, but other than that she stayed almost perfectly composed.

"I do," Harry laughed. She smiled and took a seat next to him at the bar. "It has a very…Slytherin…feel."

"I know," Daphne smirked. "I was kind of hoping that would bother you."

"Why would that bother me?" Harry laughed. She took a sip of his wine and gave an approving nod before telling the bartender to pour her a glass of it.

"I have no idea," Daphne shrugged. "I just hoped it would."

"Why would you want me bothered?" he laughed.

"Because I have a feeling you'll be far more fun when you're bothered?" Daphne said. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip of it.

"But why," Harry laughed. Daphne just shook her head.

"You're being incredibly less entertaining with this than I expected, Potter. Perhaps I just got all dolled up because I felt bad about how shitty I looked last time?" She took another sip of her wine and looked away from him. He noticed a flush rising up her cheeks and he assumed it wasn't just from her first few sips of wine.

"I thought you looked nice last time," Harry admitted. She laughed at him, a melodious sound that Harry couldn't help but want to hear again.

"And here I thought Aurors were supposed to be observant," Daphne countered.

"We are. And as such I can freely say you looked fine last time," Harry said.

"Fine, eh? Already a downgrade from good, Potter," Daphne responded.

"Oh, uhm, fantastic?" Harry said.

"Now you're just lying through your teeth. Not that I mind any form of flattery," Daphne said.

"Well, that's good to know," Harry laughed.

"Oh? Are you going to spend the rest of the evening flattering me then?" she asked.

"Hadn't planned on it," Harry said. "But I'm sure I could probably make something work out."

"Well I certainly wouldn't be opposed to it," Daphne commented. "But it would likely get annoying after a while."

"I know the feeling," Harry laughed quietly. Daphne just turned in her stool and looked at him.

"I guess you would," she said carefully. He suspected she wasn't particularly sure how to broach the subject of the war and Harry's lauded heroism. He never refuted the stories in the Daily Prophet. But he never really confirmed most of them, anyway.

"I still have people coming up to me and gushing," Harry sighed. "You'd think I was a star athlete or something."

"Well, you sort of are," Daphne said, sounding a little dumbfounded.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well you really sort of are. I mean, you're probably the most famous wizard in England," Daphne said.

"That's stupid," Harry commented. "I'm not that famous."

"Really?" she laughed. "Let's put it this way, you'd say Quidditch stars are probably the most famous of us?"

"Probably," Harry laughed. "Ginny and Gwenog are usually making headline news with something or another."

"Well that's because they're attractive and most men swoon when they see them. So that's a lot of their fame. And, again, it's mostly men. Yet I consider myself a pretty average female," she spoke fluidly and without much sign of stopping, at least until Harry snorted at her comment.

"Not much is average about you, Daph," he laughed. She gave him a bit of a condescending smile and continued.

"For the sake of argument, I consider myself a fairly average female. Now, I can't, for the life of me, name the starting chaser line for the Ballycastle Bats. And they're my favorite team. But I can quote facts about Harry Potter," she admitted. When she paused she took a sip of her wine. Harry suspected that was purely to give him a chance to think over her comments.

"That just kind of creeps me out, to be honest," Harry admitted.

"Well, I'm sure that you'll grow accustomed to it. It can't be something you haven't thought about," Daphne said.

"Oh I've thought about it. That's why it creeps me out," Harry admitted. "There's plenty of times that I think others know more about me than I do."

"There's probably people that think they do. After all, how many unauthorized biographies of Harry Potter are out there? Five?"

"Seven at last count," Harry sighed. He kind of hated that he knew that, but every time a new one came out, some reporter would try to corner him and ask him questions about it.

"You know, you could probably get that to stop if you'd just let someone write an authorized one," Daphne commented.

"I know. But I don't feel like sitting down and actually answering questions" Harry said. "Not to mention I really don't have the time for it."

"Will you do that someday?" she asked. She was gazing upward at him, her hazel eyes wide and shining just a bit. He almost thought she was admiring him.

"I don't know. Probably. I don't really think about it, to be honest."

"Understandable," Daphne said. The bartender took that moment to ask if they'd be dining at the bar. When Daphne affirmed that, he returned with menus. They spent a moment just silently looking over them. When the bartender returned to refill their wine they placed their order. Harry picked the gnocchi special he'd read about in the paper. Daphne ordered some sort of risotto.

"So what was your point earlier?" Harry asked.

"What?" Daphne asked.

"Your long-winded quidditch analogy. I don't think you ever got to the point with it," Harry explained. The lawyer just shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, well that was pretty much just that that's how you're seen by the female population," she said.

"What?" Harry laughed.

"You know, how you males revere the female quidditch players? Well, that's how most of the of age female witches view you," Daphne explained. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"I can't believe you're comparing me to a famous athlete," Harry admitted.

"I don't know why it sounds so far-fetched to you. You're famous, you're attractive, and you're rich. Everyone wants a piece of that Harry."

"Even you?" he countered.

"You'd have had a much better Tuesday if I just wanted a piece, Harry," she responded dryly. "And probably Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday." She started counting off on her fingers as she spoke.

"Alright, alright, I get the point," Harry laughed. "But your idea has one flaw."

"What's that?" she asked. Their food arrived as she spoke. Harry took the opportunity order another bottle of wine. Once they were served and had started on their food he continued the conversation.

"Well, you didn't account for the fact that it's a pretty even split of men and women who approach me on a daily basis," Harry said. He thought it was a pretty good argument. Daphne just shrugged her shoulders.

"Everybody needs a little variety?" she countered without seeming the least bit phased. He thought he was starting to see some of the traits that made her a skilled prosecutor.

"Do you know that from experience?" Harry laughed.

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you," Daphne responded.

"But it would be more fun if you told me," Harry teased.

"Maybe it would be. Maybe it wouldn't be," Daphne responded as she ate a forkful of risotto.

"You're no fun," Harry sighed, but smiled at her.

"I think I'm quite fun, actually," Daphne said. "I'm just so not ready to talk about whatever limited experiences I may or may not have had."

"I'm pretty sure you're just making things up to tease me," Harry admitted.

"That does sound like something I'd do," Daphne agreed. And Harry realized he likely wasn't getting any more information from her. At least not on that subject. A part of him knew he shouldn't be bantering with her in the restaurant. She was a suspect in his case and he really needed to get realistic answers from her.

But, at the same time, it was so much more entertaining to just chat with her. And he knew, as he was chatting, that it was something he was just going to want to do more and more. And he felt that would make things problematic if she were to be involved.

And so they ate their dinner. It was good. The conversation waned for a bit. Daphne ordered a dessert. Harry decided to just have coffee, but that ended up being a good idea, purely because he had to eat all of hers when she decided she was full after two bites.

It was at that point, while she was finishing up her wine, that she really resumed the conversation.

"So, Potter, can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Sure," he responded, deciding to not be clever.

"Why were two Aurors looking for me last week?" She asked.

"You know about that?" Harry laughed, trying to be as nonchalant as he could. But he didn't think his charade worked well.

"I had a note when I stopped in earlier this morning to see if anything new came up," Daphne said. "Judging from the handwriting, I'd say you kind of freaked out our secretary."

"Maybe a little," Harry nodded his agreement.

"Well, why would you freak out my secretary and want to see me so badly?" Daphne asked. She placed her empty wine glass down on the bar and turned to look at him. Harry had the strangest feeling that this may have just been a set-up to ambush him, rather than waiting around for him on Monday.

"Because you're pretty?" Harry teased.

"You wouldn't have brought Hannah for that," Daphne commented. Harry debated making a comment along the lines of 'more is better' but when she just gave him a hard stare he decided that was likely not his best option.

"Alright. We had a lead in the Parkinson case," Harry said. Daphne just kept a level stare on him.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Daphne asked.

"Our lead is that one witness saw you in the company of Draco Malfoy on many occasions. Usually in Diagon Alley," Harry said.

"And you're looking for Draco, I assume?" Daphne asked.

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Draco broke up with Pansy nearly four years ago, Harry," Daphne said carefully. "If that's you're only lead I'm afraid you're probably not doing very well on your case."

"Was she still interested in him?" Harry asked.

"I doubt it," Daphne commented. "They didn't split on the best of terms. She never really mentioned him after."

"Not even when you were with him?" Harry asked, noticing that she hadn't denied that part of the story.

"With Draco?" Daphne asked, tilting her head and looking at him.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Let's get one thing out of the way. I've never been with Draco. I've never really been with anyone, for that matter. But regardless, the only way I'd ever even consider being with Draco would be if it was a one-time deal. If doing it meant I never, ever had to worry about money again. If I didn't have to look at him during the act. And if he wore one of those Muggle wrapper things so there was something between the two of us." Daphne's voice grew progressively harsher with each word. Harry just blinked and looked at her.

"Uhm, wow," Harry said. Daphne just reached across the bar and took Harry's half-empty wine glass and proceeded to start drinking it.

"Which part?" Daphne asked. She was really red and he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or from drinking.

"Pretty much the whole thing," Harry admitted. She just shrugged her shoulders.

"So do I want to know where your feelings for Malfoy stem from?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Daphne responded sarcastically. "But if I had to guess I'd probably assume from watching him abuse one of my best friends for five years?"

"Draco is abusive?" Harry asked. Daphne shrugged again. He had the strangest feeling she didn't want to be talking about Draco.

"Mentally if not physically," Daphne admitted.

"So, let me get this straight," Harry started. "You're denying being in Diagon Alley with Draco Malfoy, for one?"

"I don't think I've been near him in the alley since perhaps fifth or sixth year," she said.

"Then why are you so hesitant to talk about him?" Harry asked. Daphne looked at him for a moment, and then reached for her purse. She started digging through it and eventually pulled out a small picture. She put it on the bar and pushed it toward him. Harry looked down at it.

Two rather attractive blonde women smiled and waved at him. One was clearly older than the other. It wasn't hard to identify them as mother and daughter.

"You look a lot like your mom," Harry said. Although, he wasn't sure why the picture was relevant.

"I'm not in that picture," Daphne said. "I actually took it."

"What?" Harry blinked and looked down at it. Looking closer it was pretty obvious that the younger girl wasn't Daphne. If he was honest the girl in the picture had a better figure and was perhaps thinner. She also had a certain natural smiley quality that came through the magic film that Harry never really saw from Daphne.

"That's my mom and my sister, Astoria," Daphne said. She took a second to finish off the rest of Harry's wine before continuing. "Astoria is currently engaged to Draco Malfoy."

"What?" Harry asked. He was legitimately surprised at that. He and Hannah overlooked the Greengrass family because they were too focused on Malfoy. Of course, he didn't get that lead until Thursday. He probably should have looked into it more on Friday after he couldn't find Daphne. But all he really ended up costing himself was a day in the case.

Still, he knew a day in the case could make a great deal of difference.

"Yeah, and after watching how he was with Pansy. I'm not really the happiest about that," Daphne admitted. "But he seems to be nicer to her."

"Do you know where he is?" Harry asked.

"They've been in and out for about two weeks. They're looking at wedding venues all over the country. And I think in Paris too," Daphne said.

"Is there any way you can get them to the ministry to answer some questions?" Harry asked. Daphne just looked at him for a moment. But when she spoke it wasn't to argue. Which Harry was thankful for. At least she knew how serious his job could be. And even if she didn't think Draco was involved, she knew Harry may learn something from talking to him. And that knowledge may be enough to put the person who killed her behind bars.

"Sure," Daphne said. "I can probably get them to come in tomorrow morning if you like."

"Thank you, Daphne," he said as the bartender returned with their tab. He paid without looking at it.

"No problem. Thanks for dinner," Daphne said.

"Anytime," Harry said.

"I'm going to take you up on that," Daphne said as she stood. She took her picture back and tucked it into her purse. Harry smiled at her and stood as well. They were outside in just a few steps.

"Well if you keep dressing like that I'm certainly not going to be opposed," he laughed. She just smirked at him.

"I knew you'd like this," she teased. "Thanks again. I'm going to go home now. Unless you need to like keep me for questioning all night or something."

"Is that an option?" Harry asked, looking at her, feeling his lips curve into a smirk.

"No," Daphne said. And he couldn't help but laugh. She walked past him and down toward the nearest apparation point. He watched her disappear and couldn't help but wonder a bit about her words about not being with anyone. But he shook that thought out of his head and walked toward the same apparation point and went home.

He met Hannah early in the office. He handed her a freshly brewed tea before she spoke.

"Really, you went home with Ginny?" she teased.

"Something wrong with that?" he asked.

"I thought you hated her?" Hannah commented.

"No," Harry said. "We just grew apart. Who'd you go home with?"

"Susan," she admitted.

"Really?" Harry smirked at her.

"Oh yea. Really fun. She got too drunk and I had to make sure she didn't puke all over her apartment," Hannah yawned. "At least I got out of there before Ernie decided to talk to me."

"Yes well, guess who floo'd me yesterday afternoon," Harry said.

"Who's that?" Hannah asked.

"Daphne," Harry said.

"Really?" Hannah laughed. "How'd that go?"

"Pretty good," Harry said. "We went to dinner. Oh and she's bringing in Draco this morning."

"Really?" Hannah laughed again. "So she's with Draco?"

"No. Her sister is engaged to him, though," Harry said.

"Oh right, Astoria. I forgot about her," Hannah admitted.

"You know her?" he laughed.

"She was a bit of a bitchy prefect seventh year. But you weren't around for that," Hannah said.

"I was not," Harry affirmed. "But they should be here soon. She left me a note this morning saying we could use one of the client rooms down in their offices. She figured that would be easier than bringing them into the Auror office."

"Alright," Hannah laughed.

"Let's see if we can learn anything from the white elephant that is Draco Malfoy," Harry said.

"Did you just drop a Hemingway reference?" Hannah asked.

"Who knows," Harry shrugged as they moved deeper into the department.

Daphne was chatting with the receptionist when they approached. She smiled at them.

"Aurors," she said carefully.

"Hello, Daphne," Hannah responded.

"They're in room three," Daphne said. "Be gentle."

"Always," Hannah laughed and they entered the room.

Draco Malfoy sat at the table. Astoria Greengrass stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders. Hannah stepped in first and immediately took the seat across from Draco. Harry sat next to her.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," she said with a bright smile. Astoria glared at her.

"What's this about?" Astoria asked.

"We just wanted to ask Draco some questions," Harry said.

"About what?" Astoria asked.

"Pansy Parkinson," Harry said. Part of him wanted to ask the younger Miss Greengrass to leave. But he had the strangest feeling this would be easier if she was present.

"What about her?" Draco asked. His voice was quiet. He didn't seem to really have any fight in him. Harry wondered just how much Astoria did for him. "I don't think I've seen her for at least two years."

"Well she's dead," Harry said.

"What?" Draco asked. He looked legitimately surprised. Astoria remained expressionless.

"Last Sunday evening. Perhaps Monday morning. We found her dead in a park," Hannah explained.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Draco asked.

"We did only agree to come because Daphne begged," Astoria added. "So you better have a reason for us to be here."

"Well, Pansy's parents believed she was still involved with you. And you're parents weren't quite sure what you were up to, either," Harry said.

"And given that your parents still seemed interested in that betrothal as well," Hannah added. "They didn't even mention Astoria. I wonder, do they even know about that ring?"

"They do," Draco sighed. "Well. Mom does anyway."

"Strange she didn't mention it to us," Hannah said.

"I'm sure you get lied to all the time," Astoria spat. Draco just sighed though.

"Tory, sit down," he said. Astoria looked at him for a moment, but she sat next to him. "What did you want to ask me."

"Well, you said you hadn't seen her in years?" Harry asked.

"Correct," Draco said.

"And where have you been for the last week plus?"

"All over," Draco sighed. "Edinburgh on Monday. Paris on Wednesday…"

"And you can prove this, naturally?" Hannah asked. Harry knew her logic. It was easier than having them just make a complex list.

"Probably," Draco said. "How?"

"Receipts or anything?" Harry asked.

"Oh. I have some of those, yes. And I'm sure I can get some information from Gringotts if it would help. I didn't kill Pansy," he said.

"We didn't say you did," Harry said.

"But we would like to see those receipts. Just so we can confirm your alibi."

"Sure. Can I just have them sent to you?" Darco asked.

"Yes. Address them to the Auror office, care of Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Okay," Draco said. "Do you need anything else?"

"What do you know about Pansy?" Harry asked. Draco looked at him and frowned a bit.

"Not much, really," he said. "I mean we were close in school sure. But after the war ended she wanted no part of me. We fought all the time. Eventually she told me to just get out and never come back. So I obliged."

"Where was that?" Hannah asked.

"Oh, I had an apartment just off of Diagon alley. As far as I knew she still lived there. But I can't say much more than that," Draco said.

"It's still in your name," Harry said. "You wouldn't mind if we had a look around, would you?"

"Go ahead," Draco said. "I haven't stepped foot in there in two years."

"Anything else?" Hannah asked. "Like what did you fight about?"

"Me, mostly," Draco admitted. "I didn't do much. She thought we should do more. I never wanted to go out. I still get mocked for the war. So going out in public sometimes…was unpleasant. I yelled at her a lot when I probably shouldn't have." Draco was looking down at the table as he spoke. Astoria reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't acknowledge the gesture. Harry, though, didn't get the sense that his past rival was fibbing. There were times he hated going outside because people were happy to see him. Having them have the opposite reaction certainly would have been worse.

"And so that was it?" Hannah asked.

"Pretty much. Honestly, I haven't even really thought about her in a very long time," Draco said.

"Alright," Harry responded. "You two can go. But can we have a place to contact you at if more comes up?"

"Sure," Draco said. There was a pad of paper on the table and he wrote down an address and gave it to them.

"And get those receipts to us," Hannah said before they left. Once they were out of the room she sighed loudly.

"Well that was useless," Harry said.

"We both expected that, though," Hannah said.

"We did," Harry agreed. "But I was still hoping for something to go on."

"Me too. What do we do now?" Hannah asked.

"Well I say explore the residence we've been waiting outside for a week. And if we get nothing at all from there we explore the Gemma Farley angle more," Harry said.

"Works for me," Hannah sighed. "Perhaps a new week will bring some new evidence."

"Perhaps it will," Harry agreed.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate it. The best way to contact me is typically through PM on the site. I try to respond to those.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit. Also, beta work on this one was done by myself so I apologize for that.

Chapter 12

"I love breaking into places!" Hannah exclaimed. "It makes me feel like such a bad girl!"

"We're not breaking in," Harry sighed. "We have permission."

"Do we have the key?" Hannah asked.

"No," Harry said.

"Then we're breaking in," Hannah commented. Harry just laughed a little bit and shook his head. They walked toward Malfoy's apartment quickly, weaving through the streets without even really looking where they were going.

"If you insist," Harry sighed.

"You're just mad that he wasn't the killer," Hannah commented, apparently picking up on her partner's dour mood.

"I didn't think he'd be the killer," Harry sighed. "But I was hoping that we'd get a little bit more information out of him.

"Me too," Hannah sighed. "But we both knew that was a long shot. At least we know where he doesn't live. And we know where to find him if he managed to trick us into thinking he wasn't involved."

"I really don't think Draco is that smart," Harry laughed.

"I know he isn't," Hannah commented.

"Why are we still talking about Draco," Harry asked.

"Because we have nothing better to talk about?" Hannah responded. Harry nodded. She had a point. They really didn't have much to talk about. He debated asking if she wanted to come over again that evening. Or sometime soon. But he didn't. Instead he just changed the subject.

"I just hope Pansy doesn't have a cat," he said.

"Or a dog," Hannah responded.

"Or an owl," Harry added.

"Indifferent on toad," Hannah commented.

"Me too," Harry laughed as they finally reached the building. He opened the door for her and they walked in to the building. From there it only took them a moment to find Draco's apartment. Or Pansy's, if their hunch was correct. Hannah gestured to him as they paused outside the door.

"Hey," Harry laughed. "You're the one who gets off on breaking into things."

"Yeah, but if there's someone else living there, I so want you to be the one who has to explain it to Dawlish," Hannah commented.

"You're just saying that because you're afraid that your unlocking spell won't work," Harry said.

"I'm a fully trained auror, Potter," Hannah scoffed. "Anything I try will work flawlessly."

"So try," Harry teased.

"Are you kidding?" Hannah laughed. "We haven't even bothered to check for what kind of wards may be on the home. I'm likely to get hexed into oblivion."

"It's clean," Harry commented. "Just some standard stuff. Nothing that will bother us."

"So hop to it," Hannah ordered. Harry just looked at her for a moment and then slipped his hand onto his backup wand. He found it was slightly more effective for what he was about to do.

Without looking away from Hannah he cast a weak blasting charm on the door. It flew off its hinges and into the apartment. Hannah just frowned at him as he tucked the wand back into his coat.

"It's open," Harry said.

"That was unnecessary," Hannah commented. She stepped past him and into the apartment. Harry followed her.

"Well it was the first door opening spell that came into my head," he said dryly. "Had someone just opened the door when she'd gotten here. We wouldn't be having this problem now."

"Should I even start with how unprofessional that was?" Hannah asked. She was standing in the living area and just gazing around.

"I caught the door," Harry commented. Hannah looked over at it and noticed that it was floating in the middle of the apartment.

"I suppose you did," she laughed. "I assumed it was just resting against the wall."

"No," Harry smirked. And without even taking his primary wand from his pocket he restored the door to its original location.

"Well enough screwing around, let's find a clue," Hannah said. She started to stalk around Pansy's apartment. She didn't look at anything for more than a moment, and she didn't touch anything. She always gave any area they were searching a once-over before seriously looking for clues.

Harry took his time in making sure the door was perfectly secure before turning back into the apartment proper. He watched Hannah do her quick look around. Mostly his eyes rested on her backside as she did. But when she stepped into the next room, he started to look around as well.

He took out his wand and looked around the living room that encompassed the entry area of Pansy's apartment. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place. In fact, the apartment seemed very neat, considering Harry couldn't sense any residual magic typically left over from house elves.

He could, however, sense some human magic in the room. The difference was hard to judge at first. But after training it became easier. Elf magic always felt fainter. Human magic felt stronger. Although the trainers at the academy were adamant to not let that fool you. Despite their magic feeling weaker, many were still very powerful, and an angry house elf could be a very dangerous thing.

Of course, Harry knew that from first hand experiences. He couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Dobby's heroics. But it distracted him, and he needed to focus.

He walked to points in the living room where the magic felt the strongest. Most of it was just residual effects from charmed objects such as the replenishing tissue box and the small garbage can that emptied itself daily. Typically charms didn't leave much of a trace, but when they were active it built up.

Nothing really seemed out of the order. There were just lighting spells, heating spells, cooling spells, and all sorts of standard house spells. And, judging by the amount of cleansing and folding charms from the vicinity of the couch, Harry assumed she did her laundry in the living room. He took out his wand and used magic to open the drawers on the side tables. There wasn't anything in the first, the second had nothing unusual. He left the drawers open so Hannah would know he'd looked through them.

She'd gone into one of the bedrooms so he went the opposite way, walking into the semi-exposed kitchen. Again he opened all of the cabinets first, with magic, and peered into them. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just standard dishes and what not. He summoned each piece out and examined them. He didn't expect to find anything, and he didn't, but it was his job to look at everything. He replaced each piece once he was done.

Next he looked around for any traces of residual magic. There was plenty of it in the kitchen, but again, there wasn't anything that felt out of place. All of the spells he could sense were either standard cooking or cleaning aids. He frowned a bit and looked around a bit more.

Really, in the two rooms he'd searched, the only thing that struck him as out of the ordinary was the fact that she didn't have any mail. He couldn't help but wonder just how she'd pulled that off. He got at least three things a day, almost all of it junk. But there wasn't even a stack of delivered papers or anything.

He paced around the kitchen for a moment longer before moving back into the living room. He frowned a bit and gazed around once more. But there wasn't anything new. So he ducked toward the bedroom, wondering if Hannah located anything.

She wasn't in the bedroom when he entered. But he could see her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had her wand out and was examining everything in Pansy's medicine cabinet. Judging from her expression she hadn't found anything unusual.

"Anything?" Harry asked. He looked around the bathroom. Again, he didn't sense anything that seemed out of place.

"Some drugs," Hannah said, gesturing to the sink. Harry saw some needles and a baggie. He nodded a bit. Drugs made sense, seeing as some had been found in her system.

"Anything else?" Harry asked, gazing around the small bathroom.

"There's something in here," she said, gesturing with her wand to the bottled potion she was examining. "But I'm not sure just what it is." Harry pointed his wand at it and the bottle levitated from her and toward him. He stared at the label a bit.

"What is this?" Harry asked. He didn't recognize the label. "I'm not sure just what we're looking at."

"Doesn't it feel odd?" she asked. He shrugged a bit and focused on it. Something about it did seem off. He couldn't really describe it. But it just didn't feel normal. He focused on it more and tried to determine just what it was.

"A little, yes," Harry said. "But since I have no idea what I'm looking at, I can't really tell if that's oddity or normalcy."

"Look at you with your fancy words. Best I can figure it's a poorly made pain potion," Hannah said, staring over his shoulder at it.

"A poorly made pain potion in a factory bottle?" Harry asked. "Doesn't that seem a tad odd as well?"

"Some people remake potions and just use old bottles," Hannah countered.

"Did you see a cauldron anywhere?" he asked. "Because I certainly didn't."

"No. I haven't spotted one either," Hannah said. "I figured if there was one it would be in the kitchen."

"Nothing unusual in the kitchen," Harry admitted. He focused more on the bottle he was examining. "It could be a bad pain potion. But I think it's just laced with something. And whatever it's laced with is throwing it off."

"Could be," Hannah acknowledged.

"I have no idea what it's laced with though. Let me check something though" he said, and he passed the bottle back to Hannah, magically. She rolled her eyes at his inability to multi-task and levitated it for him as he turned his attention to the drugs resting on the sink. He levitated them up to eye level and examined them, casting a few basic diagnostic spells.

"What are you doing?" Hannah asked as she watched.

"Trying to see if I can get any sort of a sense from them. Then I could compare it to the potion and see if perhaps she just decided needles were too much effort," Harry explained. Hannah just stared at him.

"Isn't that synthetic? It won't have a magical trace," Hannah responded, gesturing to the drug.

"There some natural in it, I believe. Either way, everything has some sort of a trace," Harry countered.

"Synthetics don't," Hannah responded, matter-of-factly.

"Sure they do," Harry countered. "Look harder." She just rolled her eyes.

"And you're not working in forensics why?" she laughed.

"Because this is more fun," he responded dryly, not particularly paying attention to her as he focused on the drugs. He was silent for a few moments before eventually just frowning.

"Let me guess, nothing?" Hannah teased.

"No. There's something. It just doesn't quite match." Harry sighed.

"I'll send the potion back to the ministry and have them take a look at it," she said. Harry shrugged his shoulders. He doubted it would be important. But they really didn't have much to go on. Still, perhaps it would make up for some sort of drug excuse.

"What?" Hannah asked.

"We think a drugged potion matters? That kind of throws serial homicide out the window, don't you think?" Harry asked.

"I just want to know what it is," Hannah commented. "I'm not saying it killed her."

"Then one of us could just take a swig," Harry countered, looking back at the bottle.

"And then if it did kill her?" Hannah rolled her eyes. She could tell Harry was growing bored with the case. He always did during the middle part of investigations. He preferred the battles, and the danger, looking for clues did not suit him.

"Then the non-poisoned one can apparate to the hospital," Harry countered with a smile. Hannah just shook her head and created a bag with both their initials on it to store the potion in before she banished it off to the ministry. It would arrive with inbound mail and be sent directly to forensics.

"I think we'll pass on that," Hannah countered. Harry just shrugged.

"Suit yourself," Harry said. He conjured a bag for the drugs and sent them off after the potion. "Are we done here then?"

"No," Hannah said. "Let's give it another once over. You go look through the bedroom, I'll check the kitchen and living area." Harry just nodded and watched Hannah as she left the bathroom and moved through the bedroom and back into the living area.

He looked around the bathroom first. Again he went through the medicine cabinet once more. There wasn't anything unusual left in it. Hannah had swept it clean. All of the magic in the area again felt completely normal. He walked back out into the bedroom and looked around.

Again, there wasn't anything that looked unusual. He cast a few basic diagnostic spells, mostly to make it appear like he was actually working. He didn't find anything. But he didn't expect to find anything. He was starting to doubt just how much of a link there was in these cases. He took a few moments before stepping back out into the living area.

"Anything?" he asked as he stepped back out into the living room.

"No," Hannah responded. "Everything here seems normal."

"I didn't find anything out of place either," Harry said. He gazed around the apartment once more, walking over toward some of the windows and gazing out down over the streets.

"Well, what now?" Hannah asked. Harry just shrugged a bit.

"We could give Pansy's bed a whirl," he suggested dryly.

"Hmm," Hannah tilted her head to the side, faux-thinking about his suggestion. "I guess. But I'm not sure I want to lay in the same bed that Draco and Pansy used to sleep in."

"That is probably a valid point," Harry commented.

"Well I think it is, and since my opinion is very valid in this situation, I'm going to have to go with no," Hannah concluded. Harry nodded respectfully and turned to face his partner.

"Well I'm out of ideas then," he sighed.

"Me too," she admitted. "Any update on the Apparation records?"

"Hermione mentioned Transportation should have them by midweek. I figured I'd go bother them about them tomorrow and hopefully pick them up Wednesday," Harry sighed.

"Think there will be anything in them?"

"No," Harry admitted. "But it may narrow down some names to someone who may have seen something."

"Beats what we have right now," Hannah commented.

"Yes it does," Harry said.

"I think I'm going to go see if I can get the forensics people to dig deeper into connections between Gemma and Pansy," Hannah sighed.

"At what point do we start thinking that the cases aren't linked?" Harry asked.

"When we can explain away the wand?" Hannah suggested, referencing the stick delivered to Kingsley.

"Which he didn't receive for Gemma," Harry countered as they left the apartment building.

"So do you think the cases aren't linked?" Hannah asked.

"I'm starting to think they may not be," Harry said. "The only thing they really have in common is that we can't figure out what killed them."

"Which is a fairly big commonality," Hannah countered. "Considering we can almost always figure out what killed someone."

"Usually," Harry agreed. "But I think we may want to focus on them as individual cases for a while. Perhaps we should let someone else look into Farley."

"I disagree," Hannah said. "Something about them just makes me think they're linked. If we don't make any progress I'll think about it."

"Alright," Harry said. He didn't think it was worth arguing with her for. So he changed the subject. "Coming over tonight?" he asked.

"Cooking dinner tonight?" Hannah retorted.

"Hadn't planned on it. But I'm sure I could throw something together."

"I'll think about it," she said as they stepped outside and moved toward the apparation point. He could tell from her tone that she wasn't going to think about it. He shrugged his shoulders, disappointed. But he'd get over it soon enough.

"Chicken?" he suggested, purely to keep the banter going.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Just go find some clues so we can solve this damn thing." She walked to the apparation point and then simply disappeared, making her way back to the Ministry.

Harry wasn't really sure what to do next. He didn't really want to work. Which was terrible of him, he knew. But he was stuck in a rut about the case. He walked back toward the alley and debated his next course of action.

He thought about possibly stopping by the Slugs's apothecary and seeing if they could recall anything that may be useful in relation to Gemma. But he didn't think that would result in anything remotely helpful. He suspected the couple had already given him anything they could have known.

Of course, there was still one person who he was pretty certain hadn't confessed everything he knew. But Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to move down that path yet. So instead he wandered down the street, with his hands in his pockets, and really just thought about what he should do.

He didn't come up with anything. So he just kept walking. After a few moments he stepped past the wand shop. Harry couldn't help but stare in the window.

Luna was helping some customers. They looked middle aged. He wasn't quite sure what she was helping them with, as there didn't appear to be a child present. But every now and then adults needed new wands, too.

Harry didn't really care.

All he really cared about was Luna's backside. He wondered how much she exercised, or if her ass was simply that perfect. He spent longer staring at it than he probably should have. But as long as she was facing away from him it seemed like best option. So he just kept staring.

She was wearing a flowery skirt that fell to her knees and a basic blouse. All Harry really thought about was walking up behind her and kissing her neck as his arms slid around her. He'd move her over toward the desk. He wasn't sure if he'd turn her around and lift her onto it, or if he'd just bend her over and slide the skirt up her legs. Either seemed like perfectly good options.

Moments later she turned around, to move toward the counter and check-out the customers, Harry assumed. But she saw him, and blushed just a little bit. He smiled at her and mouthed 'busy' while tilting his head to the side as if to indicate a question. Luna just nodded at him and looked forlornly down. Harry frowned and mouthed 'lunch' with another nod. She shook her head again and mouthed 'sorry' before turning back to the customers.

He just shrugged to himself, not really sure of what else he could do at that point. He kept watching her for a few moments, purely to see if she'd acknowledge him further. But she didn't. So he needed to think of something better to do.

Or at least something that would make him not thinking about bedding Luna for the rest of the day. Although, he suspect short of bedding someone, there wasn't much that would have prevented that.

He walked up the street with no particular destination in mind. But he had an idea once he passed the joke shop. He checked his watch briefly to make sure that it was late enough for his plan to really come to fruition.

He stepped into the joke show and smiled at Verity. She sat at the counter and looked fairly bored. There wasn't anyone in the shop at that moment.

"Hey Mr. Potter," she said as he entered.

"Hello Verity," he responded. "Ron upstairs?"

"No," Ron said from off to his side. "Was going over the inventory." His friend looked a little surprised to see him. He suspected that Ron was still a little bit put off from the last time aurors visited his office. But, Harry hoped he'd be able to lull him without having Hannah present.

"Sounds fun," Harry commented idly. It didn't sound fun, but he couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"Not at all," Ron commented. He paused a moment to look around the store, mostly to ascertain that there really weren't any customers there, before he spoke again. "What's up?"

"Nothing really," Harry said. "Want to grab a pint?"

"I'm working," Ron laughed. Harry just shrugged.

"So am I," Harry laughed in response.

"So I can't just leave," Ron looked around sheepishly.

"It's lunch time. And I'm sure Verity can handle anything. Isn't there some sort of benefit to being the owner?"

"My brother's the owner," Ron laughed. "I just run the day-to-day."

"So?" Harry laughed. "Still has to be some sort of benefit. Say it's a business deal. I am sort of important, you know." His assertion Ron to chuckled under his breath.

"I guess you are. Well, what did you have in mind?"

"Don't care. Pick a pub and let's floo there," Harry said. Ron just nodded a bit and thought about it for a moment.

"The Charmed Newt has a fantastic lunch special," Ron suggested. Harry just nodded and walked over toward the store's Floo.

"Works for me," he said and tossed some powder into the fire before stepping into it.

The Charmed Newt was a small hole in the wall on the other side of London. Harry wasn't ever quite sure what it appeared to be to Muggles, but none of them ever tried to stop in. Ron stepped out of the fire moments after he did and they simply walked up to the six stool bar.

"Hey Frank," Ron said to the bartender, an older man who was washing glasses with a rag. Harry thought it seemed to be an excessive gesture, but he suspected it was done more out of appearances and habit than with any goal of washing a glass.

"Mr. Weasley," the older man said quietly.

"Ron," Ron amended but the bartender just shrugged. He turned and looked at Harry for a moment, his eyes focusing on the scar, before he just grabbed two pint glasses and poured a deep gold brew into them. He set them down in front of the two patrons before they even bothered to order.

Harry just shrugged a bit at that, he assumed if Ron was a regular it couldn't be all bad. So he took a deep sip from his. It wasn't bad, although it was perhaps a little bit hoppier than he'd prefer.

"So what's new since Saturday," Ron asked after taking a large sip of his drink. Harry just shrugged a bit.

"Nothing really," Harry responded. "You?"

"Not a thing," Ron said, drinking more beer. Harry just nodded.

"Sorry about the other day," He said idly. "Hannah got a bit more intense than was really necessary."

"S'okay," Ron said calmly. "Just doing your job."

"More or less," Harry said. "But she's a bit more invested in the case than I am. Always is when women wind up dead."

"Can't really blame her," Ron shrugged.

"I guess not," Harry responded.

"I still think Draco did it," Ron commented.

"He didn't," Harry laughed, wondering if he should really bring up a case detail, but he figured it didn't matter.

"Talked to him?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry responded. "He has an alibi. Well, an alibi we haven't really checked into that much yet. But it makes sense. And he was as surprised as everyone else. And he didn't know Miss Farley." Ron nodded and looked away. After a moment he took a large drink of his beer, finishing it off in the process. Harry nodded to the bartender who got them each another round and then asked if they wanted to order.

"Steak sandwich," Ron said. Harry paged through the menu resting on the bar for a moment before coming to his decision.

"Turkey club," he said and the bartender disappeared without comment. Harry half suspected he went into the back to make their food. They were the only two people in the pub at that point and he knew it had very little staff in general. Ron drank more beer as Harry sat and paged through the menu for a moment.

"How was shopping?" he asked idly, on memory of Hermione mentioning it during the weekend.

"Boring," Ron laughed. "Sorry we didn't make it to the party."

"I didn't end up staying that long," Harry admitted.

"Oh? Things didn't pan out with Luna?" Ron teased. Harry just shrugged.

"She's hard to judge. She had to get up early for work and wanted to leave early," he commented.

"So you went home with her?" Ron asked.

"No. But I left shortly after she did," Harry admitted.

"With anyone fun?" he asked.

"No," Harry lied. But he didn't feel like getting another lecture on how perfect for each other he and Ginny were. So he figured he best leave that one alone.

"So you're really trying to get with Luna?" Ron asked as he finished his second beer. Frank seemed to know exactly how long it would take Ron to drink, as he showed up with a third one a moment later.

"I guess," Harry admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

"She did get prettier," Ron admitted. "Comes into the joke shop every now and then. Last time I barely recognized her."

"She's always been pretty," Harry shrugged. He felt like he'd just had this conversation a few days ago and realized he probably had. But rather than continue to defend Luna he took a sip of his beer.

"I guess," Ron shrugged. "Never really looked at her in school."

"Well you were too busy staring at Hermione," Harry commented.

"Only for the last couple years," Ron countered.

"I guess," Harry shrugged. He hadn't been too busy looking at anyone during school. In hindsight, he wished he'd have been.

"I'm a bit surprised she isn't all over the idea," Ron commented.

"I just don't think she quite knows what to do," Harry laughed. "Everything seems a little awkward."

"I doubt she's had a real relationship," Ron commented. "You'll get to be her first. Just invite her over, make dinner, and go down on her."

"I don't remember it being that easy," Harry laughed, he finished his beer about the same point that Frank returned with their food. Ron slammed half of his third and the bartender returned with another round.

"Well it probably isn't. But you're Harry Potter and she's at least liked you for a decade," Ron commented.

"I don't think it's been that long," Harry shrugged. But he didn't feel like counting back the years to the first time he'd met her on the Hogwarts express.

"Anyway, she's pretty, although her tits are too small, and she wants you. Shack up with her already," Ron said.

"We'll see," Harry said, starting on his club. He didn't really have much more of a comment to make than that. He was silent as he ate. It wasn't until he finished up, and got another beer in Ron, that he decided to ask the question that was bothering him.

"So, Gemma Farley," he said. Ron turned pale, took another sip of his drink and looked back at his friend.

"What about her?" he asked.

"You know more than you're telling me," Harry said. "I'm not a stooge. I could tell that much on Friday."

"So?" Ron asked. He slid his stool a little bit away from Harry, as if the extra distance made him a little bit safer from the questioning.

"So, what's up?" Harry asked. He took a sip of his beer and intentionally didn't look at Ron. He wanted the questioning to seem as light as possible.

"Nothing," Ron said quietly.

"Try again," Harry sighed.

"I didn't have anything to do with her death," Ron said, defensively.

"I don't think you did," Harry said. "But I need all of the information I can get." Ron stared at him for a few moments.

"Promise you won't tell Hermione?" Ron asked. Harry just tilted his head and looked at his friend.

"I won't say a thing," he said.

"Gemma and I were seeing each other," Ron admitted. Harry nodded. If he was honest, he'd assumed as much.

"For how long?" he asked.

"About a year," Ron admitted.

"How did it happen?"

"She was dropping off ingredients for something we were working on one night. I don't remember quite what. But we chatted a bit while she was delivering them. I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I asked if she wanted to go get a drink. She just stared at me for a moment, but then agreed," Ron explained.

"And then?" Harry asked.

"And then what?" Ron shrugged. "We went out for a drink. We kissed a bit at the end of the night but she went home. A few days later I went to the shop to order more stuff and asked her out again. A couple weeks later we were sleeping with each other?"

"And Hermione never found out?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron shrugged. "She was too focused on work. It was really easy to just say I was going to try to invent something. More often than not I did all of my..erm…thinking in Gemma's bed."

"You realize this does give me a motive," Harry sighed, thinking that something must have gone wrong. He shook his head.

"I was going to ask her to marry me," Ron said. Harry blinked a bit.

"What?" He laughed.

"Yeah. In a few more weeks. I had to think of a way to break it off with Hermione, and then I'd give it some time. But Gemma was special, Harry," Ron sighed and took another sip of his beer.

"How so?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. She always seemed more interested in me. She was fun to be around. She was playful. She never really said no, or scolded me. And in bed, I mean, just wow. She was always willing. She'd let me do anything," Ron's voice trailed off a bit.

"I see," Harry said, hoping to stop that train of thought before it got too explicit.

"So yeah. I'm shocked she's dead," he admitted. "I want you to find and kill whoever did it."

"And you're sure Hermione didn't know?" Harry asked.

"Well she's never mentioned it. I was discreet," Ron shrugged.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked, doing his best to shift from cop to friend. Ron seemed to understand where he was going with the questioning.

"Nothing, I guess," Ron sighed. "Hermione is fine for now."

"I see," Harry shrugged. He thought Ron was perhaps being a bit cruel to their friend. But from what he could tell the two were usually happy. And, while he hadn't been married, he knew he wasn't one to comment on other's bedmates.

"I should get back to the office," Ron said as he checked his watch. Harry just nodded, he doubted his friend would go back to work after drinking that much at lunch. But he knew Ron just wanted to end the conversation, and he got all the information he needed.

"Alright, I'll get this," Harry said, grabbing some coins from his pocket. "What do you say to O'Callahan's on Wednesday for the Cannons match?"

"I'm down," Ron nodded as Harry paid. "See you then." Ron walked back to the floo and did say the joke shop as he left. But Harry still doubted he'd stay there long.

Harry, however, stepped outside and looked around the city. It was only a few blocks to the nearest apparation point and the walk would help him think. He hadn't really learned anything that he thought would help with the case. But he'd run it by Hannah when he next saw her. He just put his hands into his pockets and walked, hoping that something would come to him soon.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate it. As always the best way to contact me and actually get a response is typically through PM on the website.


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